FRANK  ON  THE 
PRAIRIE 

lUT  A  l^TTOJ*"    4*^  A    fcVT^T  ir?-  JIX  J'^llWT 

HARRY  GAS1  LE/WON 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


FRANK 
ON  THE  PRAIRIE 


BY 


HARRY  CASTLEMON 

AUTHOR   OF    "FRANK    ON    A    GUNBOAT,"   "FRANK    BEFORE 
VICKSBURG,"   "FRANK   IN   THE  WOODS,"   ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

HURST    &    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


PZ 
7 


CONTENTS. 


I.  Ho  for  the  West 5 

II.  The  Wagon  Train  •. . .   ...     15 

III.  Antelope  Hunting 28 

IV.  1  he  Best  Trapper  on  the  Prairie 37 

V.  A  Fight  with  the  Indians 60 

VI.  Lost  on  the  Prairie 79 

VII.  The  Trapper's  Reminiscence 92 

VIII.  The  "  Ole  Bar's  Hole  " 114 

IX.  Archie's  Adventure  with  a  Grizzly 127 

X.  Hanging  a  Bear 139 

XL  A  Buffalo  Hunt 151 

XII.  A  Night  Among  the  Wolves 166 

XIII.  Frank's  New  Acquaintances 178 

XIV.  The  Trader's  Expedition 195 

XV.  The  Outlaw's  Escape 209 

XVI.  The  King  of  the  Drove 226 

XVII.  How  the  Trapper  got  his  Horse 239 

XVIII.  Old  Bob's  Adventure 254 

XIX.  Homeward  Bound 271 

3 


FKANK  ON  THE  PEAIKIE. 


CHAPTER  I.    , 

HO  FOR  THE  WEST! 

FOR  two  months  after  their  return  from 
their  hunting  expedition  in  "  the  woods,'"' 
Frank  and  Archie  talked  of  nothing  but  the 
incidents  that  had  transpired  during  their 
visit  at  the  trapper's  cabin.  The  particulars 
of  Frank's  desperate  fight  with  the  moose  had 
become  known  throughout  the  village,  and  the 
"  Young  Naturalist "  enjoyed  an  enviable 
reputation  as  a  hunter.  He  was  obliged  to 
relate  his  adventures  over  and  over  again,  un- 
til one  day  his  thoughts  and  conversation  were 

5 


6  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

turned  into  a  new  channel  by  the  arrival  of  an 
uncle,  who  had  just  returned  from  California. 

Uncle  James  had  been  absent  from  home 
nearly  ten  years,  and  during  most  of  that  time 
had  lived  in  the  mines.  Although  the  boys  had 
not  seen  him  since  they  were  six  years  old,  and 
of  course  could  not  remember  him,  they  were 
soon  on  the  best  of  terms  with  each  other. 
Uncle  James  had  an  inexhaustible  fund  of 
stories;  he  had  crossed  the  plains,  fought  the 
Indians,  was  accustomed  to  scenes  of  danger 
and  excitement,  and  had  such  an  easy  way  of 
telling  his  adventures,  that  the  boys  never 
grew  tired  of  listening  to  them.  The  day  after 
his  arrival  he  visited  the  museum,  gazed  in 
genuine  wonder  at  the  numerous  specimens  of 
his  nephews'  handiwork,  and  listened  to  the 
descriptions  of  their  hunting  expeditions  with 
as  much  interest  as  though  he  had  been  a  boy 
himself.  Then  he  engaged  in  hunting  with 
them,  and  entered  into  the  sport  with  all  the 
reckless  eagerness  of  youth. 

The  winter  was  passed  in  this  way,  and 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  7 

when  spring  returned,  Uncle  James  began  to 
talk  of  returning  to  California  to  settle  up  his 
business.  He  had  become  attached  to  life  in 
the  mines,  but  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 
leaving  his  relatives  again.  The  quiet  com- 
forts he  had  enjoyed  at  the  cottage  he  thought 
were  better  than  the  rough  life  and  hard  fare 
to  which  he  had  been  accustomed  for  the  last 
ten  years.  He  had  left  his  business,  however, 
in  an  unsettled  state,  and,  as  soon  as  he  could 
"  close  it  up,"  would  return  and  take  up  his 
abode  in  Lawrence.  The  cousins  regretted 
that  the  parting  time  was  so  near,  for  they 
looked  upon  their  relative  as  the  very  pattern 
of  an  uncle,  but  consoled  themselves  by  look- 
ing forward  to  the  coming  winter,  when  he 
would  be  settled  as  a  permanent  inmate  of  the 
cottage. 

"  I  say,  Frank,"  exclaimed  Archie  one  day, 
as  he  burst  into  the  study,  where  his  cousin 
was  engaged  in  cleaning  his  gun  preparatory 
to  a  muskrat  hunt,  "  there's  something  in  the 
wind.  Just  now,  as  I  came  through  the  sit- 


8  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

ting-room,  I  surprised  our  folks  and  Uncle 
James  talking  very  earnestly  about  something. 
But  they  stopped  as  soon  as  I  came  in,  and,  as 
that  was  a  gentle  hint  that  they  didn't  want 
me  to  know  anything  about  it,  I  came  out. 
There's  something  up,  I  tell  you." 

"  It's  about  uncle's  business,  I  suppose,"  re- 
plied Frank.  But  if  that  teas  the  subject  of 
the  conversation,  Archie  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  his  affairs  must  be  in  a  very  unset- 
tled state,  for  when  they  returned  from  their 
hunt  that  night  the  same  mysterious  conversa- 
tion was  going  on  again.  It  ceased,  however, 
as  the  boys  entered  the  room,  which  made 
Archie  more  firm  in  his  belief  than  ever  that 
there  was  "  something  up." 

The  next  morning,  at  the  breakfast-table, 
Archie's  father  announced  his  intention  of  re- 
turning to  Portland  at  once,  as  his  business 
needed  his  attention ;  and,  turning  to  the  boys, 
inquired: 

"  Well,  have  you  had  hunting  enough  this 
winter  to  satisfy  you?" 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  9 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  don't  want  to  go  across 
the  plains  with  your  Uncle  James?  " 

"  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  Archie,  springing  to  his 
feet,  and  upsetting  his  coffee-cup.  "  Did  you 
say  we  mi  gist  go?" 

"  Be  a  little  more  careful,  Archie,"  said  his 
father.  "  No,  I  did  not  say  so." 

"  Well,  it  amounts  to  the  same  thing," 
thought  Archie,  "  for  father  never  would  have 
said  a  word  about  it  if  he  wasn't  intending  to 
let  us  go.  I  knew  there  was  something  up." 

We  need  not  stop  to  repeat  the  conversation 
that  followed.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Uncle 
James,  having  fully  made  up  his  mind  to  re- 
turn to  the  village  as  soon  as  he  could  settle 
up  his  business,  had  asked  permission  for  his 
nephews  to  accompany  him  across  the  plains. 
Their  parents,  thinking  of  the  fight  with  the 
moose,  and  knowing  the  reckless  spirit  of  the 
boys,  had  at  first  objected.  But  Uncle  James, 

promising  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  them,  had, 

f 
after  considerable  argument,  carried  the  day, 


io  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

and  it  was  finally  decided  that  the  boys  could 
go. 

"  But  remember,"  said  Mr.  Winters,  "  you 
are  to  be  governed  entirely  by  Uncle  James; 
for,  if  you  have  no  one  to  take  care  of  you, 
you  will  be  in  more  fights  with  bears  and 
panthers." 

The  boys  readily  promised  obedience,  and, 
hardly  waiting  to  finish  their  breakfast,  went 
into  the  study  to  talk  over  their  plans. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  there  was  something 
up?  "  said  Archie,  as  soon  as  they  had  closed 
the  door.  "  We'll  have  a  hunt  now  that  will 
throw  all  our  former  hunting  expeditions  in 
the  shade." 

As  soon  as  their  excitement  had  somewhat 
abated,  they  remembered  that  Dick  Lewis,  the 
trapper,  had  told  them  that  it  was  his  inten- 
tion to  start  for  the  prairie  in  the  spring.  If 
he  had  not  already  gone,  would  it  not  be  a 
good  plan  to  secure  his  company?  He  knew 
all  about  the  prairie,  and  might  be  of  service 
to  them.  They  laid  the  matter  before  Uncle 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  n 

James,  who,  without  hesitation,  pronounced  it 
an  excellent  idea.  "  For,"  said  he,  "  we  are  in 
no  hurry.  Instead  of  going  by  stage,  we  will 
buy  a  wagon  and  a  span  of  mules  and  take  our 
time.  If  we  don't  happen  to  fall  in  with  a 
train,  we  shall,  no  doubt,  want  a  guide."  As 
soon,  therefore,  as  the  ice  had  left  the  creek  so 
that  it  could  be  traveled  with  a  boat,  Uncle 
James  accompanied  the  boys  to  the  trapper's 
cabin. 

Dick  met  them  at  the  door,  and  greeted 
them  with  a  grasp  so  hearty,  that  they  all  felt 
its  effects  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterward. 

"I  ain't  gone  yet,"  said  he;  "but  it  won't 
be  long  afore  I  see  the  prairy  onct  more." 

"  Well,  Dick,"  said  Frank,  "  we're  going, 
too,  and  want  you  to  go  with  us." 

The  trapper  and  his  brother  opened  their 
eyes  wide  with  astonishment,  but  Uncle 
James  explained,  and  ended  by  offering  to  pay 
the  trapper's  expenses  if  he  would  accompany 
them.  After  a  few  moments'  consideration,  he 
accepted  the  proposition,  saying: 


12  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

"I  have  tuk  to  the  youngsters  mightily. 
They're  gritty  fellers,  an'  I  should  like  to  show 
'em  a  bit  of  prairy  life." 

Uncle  James  and  the  boys  remained  at  the 
cabin  nearly  a  week,  during  which  their  plans 
were  all  determined  upon,  and,  when  they  ar- 
rived at  home,  they  at  once  commenced  prepa- 
rations for  their  journey.  Their  double-bar- 
reled shot-guns  were  oiled,  and  put  carefully 
away.  They  were  very  efficient  weapons 
among  small  game,  but  Uncle  James  said  they 
were  not  in  the  habit  of  using  "  pop-guns  ''  on 
the  prairie;  they  would  purchase  their  fire- 
jinns  and  other  necessary  weapons  at  St.  Louis. 

The  first  of  June — the  time  set  for  the  start 
— at  length  arrived,  and  with  it  came  the  trap- 
per, accompanied  by  his  dog.  Dick  carried 
his  long  rifle  on  his  shoulder,  his  powder-horn 
and  bullet-pouch  at  his  side,  and  a  knapsack, 
containing  a  change  of  clothes  and  other  neces- 
sary articles,  at  his  back.  He  had  evidently 
bestowed  more  than  usual  care  upon  his  toilet; 
his  suit  of  buckskin  was  entirely  new,  and  even 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  13 

his  rifle  seemed  to  have  received  a  thorough 
rubbing  and  cleaning  preparatory  to  its  in- 
troduction into  civilized  life.  Frank  and  Ar- 
chie meeting  him  at  the  door,  relieved  him  of 
his  rifle  and  pack,  and  conducted  him  into  the 
house.  But  here  the  trapper  was  sadly  out  of 
place.  lie  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  chair,  and  was 
constantly  changing  the  position  of  his  feet, 
and  looking  down  at  the  rich  carpet,  as  if  he 
could  hardly  believe  that  it  was  made  to  walk 
upon.  The  inmates  of  the  cottage  used  every 
exertion  in  their  power  to  make  him  feel  at  his 
ease;  and,  to  some  extent,  succeeded;  but  he 
breathed  much  more  freely  when  the  farewells 
had  been  said,  and  the  party  was  on  its  way  to 
the  wharf.  In  due  time  they  arrived  at  Port- 
land, where  they  remained  nearly  a  week. 
Here  the  trapper  again  found  himself  in  hot 
water.  He  was  installed  in  a  large,  airy  room 
in  Mr.  Winter's  elegant  residence;  but  he 
would  much  rather  have  been  assigned  quar- 
ters among  the.  trees  in  the  yard.  The  sights 
and  sounds  of  the  city  were  new  to  him,  and  at 


14  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

every  corner  he  found  something  to  wonder  at. 
When  on  the  street,  he  was  continually  get- 
ting in  somebody's  way,  or  being  separated 
from  his  companions,  who  found  it  necessary 
to  keep  a  vigilant  watch  over  him.  But  it  was 
on  the  train  that  his  astonishment  reached  its 
height.  He  had  never  before  traveled  in  the 
cars,  and,  as  they  thundered  away,  going  faster 
and  faster  as  they  left  the  city  behind,  the 
trapper  began  to  clutch  his  seat,  and  to  look 
wistfully  out  the  window  at  the  woods,  which 
appeared  to  be  dancing  by,  as  if  he  never  ex- 
pected to  be  permitted  to  enter  his  natural 
element  again.  He  would  have  preferred  to 
"  foot  it,"  as  he  remarked,  and,  when  at  last 
they  reached  St.  Joseph,  he  drew  a  long  breath 
of  relief,  mentally  resolving  that  he  would 
never  again  tempt  destruction  by  traveling 
either  on  a  steamboat  or  railroad  car. 

It  was  midnight  when  they  reached  the 
hotel.  Being  very  much  fatigued  with  their 
long  journey,  they  at  once  secured  rooms  and 
retired,  and  were  soon  fast  asleep. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  15 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    WAGON    TRAIN. 

ON  awaking  the  next  morning,  the  boys 
found  themselves  surrounded  by  new  scenes. 
While  they  were  dressing,  they  looked  out  at 
the  window,  and  obtained  their  first  view  of  a 
wagon  train,  which  was  just  starting  out  for 
the  prairie.  The  wagons  were  protected  by 
canvas  covers,  some  drawn  by  oxen,  others  by 
mules,  and  the  entire  train  being  accompanied 
by  men  both  on  foot  and  on  horseback.  Fat, 
sleek  cows  followed  meekly  after  the  wagons, 
from  behind  whose  covering  peeped  the  faces  of 
women  and  children — the  families  of  the 
hardy  pioneers  now  on  their  way  to  find  new 
homes  amid  the  solitude  of  that  western 
region. 


1 6  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

The  boys  watched  the  train  until  it  disap- 
peared, and  then  went  down  stairs  to  get  their 
breakfast.  Uncle  James  was  not  to  be  found. 
In  fact,  ever  since  leaving  Portland,  he  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  his  promise  to  his  brother, 
for  he  never  bothered  his  head  about  his 
nephews.  It  is  true,  he  had  watched  them 
rather  closely  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey, 
but  soon  discovered  that  they  were  fully  capa- 
ble of  taking  care  of  themselves  and  the  trap- 
per besides.  He  did  not  make  his  appearance 
until  nearly  two  hours  after  the  boys  had 
finished  their  breakfast,  and  then  he  rode  up 
to  the  hotel  mounted  on  a  large,  raw-boned, 
ugly-looking  horse.  He  was  followed  by  the 
trapper,  who  was  seated  in  a  covered  wagon, 
drawn  by  a  span  of  mules,  while  behind  the 
wagon  were  two  more  horses,  saddled  and 
bridled. 

"  Now,  then,  boys,"  said  Uncle  James,  as  he 
dismounted  and  tied  his  horse  to  a  post, 
"  where's  your  baggage?  We're  going  with 
that  train  that  went  out  this  morning." 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  17 

"  An'  here,  youngsters,"  exclaimed  Dick,  as 
he  climbed  down  out  of  his  wagon,  "  come  an' 
take  your  pick  of  these  two  bosses.  This  one," 
he  continued,  pointing  to  a  small,  gray  horse, 
which  stood  impatiently  pawing  the  ground 
and  tossing  his  head — "  this  feller  is  young 
and  foolish  yet.  He  don't  know  nothin'  'bout 
the  prairy  or  buffaler  huntin';  an'  if  whoever 
gets  him  should  undertake  to  shoot  a  rifle 
while  on  his  back,  he  would  land  him  on  the 
ground  quicker  nor  lightnin'.  I  'spect  I  shall 
have  to  larn  him  a  few  lessons.  But  this 
one " — laying  his  hand  on  the  other  horse, 
which  stood  with  his  head  down  and  his  eyes 
closed,  as  if  almost  asleep — "  he's  an  ole  buf- 
faler hunter.  The  feller  that  your  uncle 
bought  him  of  has  jest  come  in  from  the  moun- 
tains. He  can  travel  wusser  nor  a  steamboat 
if  you  want  him  to,  an'  you  can  leave  him 
on  the  prairy  any  whar  an'  find  him  when 
you  come  back.  Now,  youngster,"  he 
added,  turning  to  Frank,  "  which  '11  you 
have?  " 


i8  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

1  "  I  have  no  choice,"  replied  Frank.  "  Which 
one  do  you  want,  Archie?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  the  latter,  "  I'd  rather  have 
the  buffalo  hunter.  He  looks  as  though  he 
hadn't  spirit  enough  to  throw  a  fellow  off,  but 
that  gray  looks  rather  vicious." 

"Wai,  then,  that's  settled,"  said  the  trap- 
per ;  "  so  fetch  on  your  plunder,  an'  let's  be 
movin'  to  onct." 

Their  baggage,  which  consisted  of  three 
trunks — small,  handy  affairs,  capable  of  hold- 
ing a  considerable  quantity  of  clothing,  but 
not  requiring  much  space — was  stowed  away 
in  the  wagon.  When  Uncle  James  had  paid 
their  bill  at  the  hotel,  they  mounted  their 
horses,  and  the  trapper,  who  now  began  to  feel 
more  at  home,  took  his  seat  in  the  wagon,  and 
drove  after  the  train.  Archie  soon  began  to 
think  that  he  had  shown  considerable  judg- 
ment in  the  selection  of  his  horse,  for  they  had 
not  gone  far  before  the  gray  began  to  show  his 
temper.  After  making  several  attempts  to 
turn  his  head  toward  home — a  proceeding 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  19 

which  Frank  successfully  resisted — he  began 
to  dance  from  one  side  of  the  street  to  the 
other,  and  ended  by  endeavoring  to  throw  his 
rider  over  his  head;  but  the  huge  Spanish 
saddle,  with  its  high  front  and  back,  afforded 
him  a  secure  seat;  and  after  receiving  a  few 
sharp  thrusts  from  Frank's  spurs,  the  gray 
quietly  took  his  place  by  the  side  of  Archie's 
horse,  and  walked  along  as  orderly  and  gentle 
as  could  be  wished. 

The  trapper,  who  was  now  the  chief  man  of 
the  party,  had  superintended  the  buying  of 
their  outfit,  and,  although  it  was  a  simple  one, 
they  were  still  well  provided  with  every  neces- 
sary article.  The  boys  were  dressed  in  com- 
plete suits  of  blue  jeans,  an  article  that  will 
resist  wear  and  dirt  to  the  last  extremity, 
broad-brimmed  hats,  and  heavy  horseman's 
boots,  the  heels  of  which  were  armed  with 
spurs. 

Their  weapons,  which  were  stowed  away  in  ' 
the  wagon,  consisted  of  a  brace  of  revolvers 
and  a  hunting-knife  each,  and  Archie  owned 


20  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

a  short  breech-loading  rifle,  while  Frank  had 
purchased  a  common  "  patch "  rifle.  The 
wagon  also  contained  provisions  in  abundance 
— coffee,  corn  meal,  bacon,  and  the  like — and 
ammunition  for  their  weapons.  Their  appear- 
ance would  have  created  quite  a  commotion  in 
the  quiet  little  village  of  Lawrence,  but  in  St. 
Joseph  such  sights  were  by  no  means  uncom- 
mon. Buckskin  was  much  more  plenty  than 
broadcloth,  and  the  people  who  passed  them 
on  the  streets  scarcely  noticed  them. 

At  length,  just  before  dark,  they  overtook 
the  train,  which  had  stopped  for  the  night. 
The  wagons  were  drawn  up  on  each  side  of  the 
road,  and  altogether  the  camp  presented  a 
scene  that  was  a  pleasant  one  to  men  wearied 
with  their  day's  journey.  Cattle  were  feeding 
qnirily  near  the  wagons,  chickens  cackled  joy- 
ously from  their  coops,  men  and  women  were 
busily  engaged  with  their  preparations  for  sup- 
per, while  groups  of  noisy  children  rolled 
about  on  the  grass,  filling  the  camp  with  the 
sounds  of  their  merry  laughter. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  21 

The  trapper  drove  on  until  he  found  a  spot 
suitable  for  their  camp,  and  then  turned  off 
the  road  and  stopped.  He  at  once  began  to 
unharness  the  mules,  while  the  boys,  after  re- 
moving their  saddles,  fastened  their  horses  to 
the  wagon  with  a  long  rope,  and  allowed  them 
to  graze.  When  the  trapper  had  taken  care  of 
Ms  mules,  he  started  a  fire,  and  soon  a  coffee- 
pot was  simmering  and  sputtering  over  the 
flames,  and  several  slices  of  bacon  were  broil- 
ing on  the  coals.  After  supper,  the  boys 
spread  their  blankets  out  under  the  wagon, 
and,  being  weary  with  their  day's  ride  (for  it 
was  something  new  to  them),  soon  fell  asleep. 

The  next  morning,  when  they  awoke  it  was 
just  daylight.  After  drawing  on  their  boots, 
they  crawled  out  from  under  the  wagon,  and 
found  the  trapper,  standing  with  his  hat  off, 
and  his  long  arms  extended  as  if  about  to  em- 
brace some  invisible  object. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  youngsters,"  said  he,  as 
the  boys  approached ;  "  if  this  ain't  nat'ral ; 
jest  take  a  sniff  of  that  ar  fresh  air!  Here," 


22  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

be  continued,  looking  about  him  with  a  smile 
of  satisfaction — "  here,  I  know  all  'bout 
things.  I'm  to  hum  now.  Thar's  nothin'  on 
the  prairy  that  Dick  Lewis  can't  'count  fur. 
But,  youngsters,  I  wouldn't  travel  on  them  ar 
steamboats  an'  railroads  ag'in  fur  all  the 
beaver  in  the  Missouri  River.  Everything  in 
them  big  cities  seemed  to  say  to  me,  '  Dick, 
you  hain't  got  no  business  here.'  Them  black 
walls  an'  stone  roads;  them  rumblin'  carts  an' 
big  stores,  war  sights  I  never  seed  afore,  an' 
J  never  want  to  see  'em  ag'in.  I  know  I  was 
treated  mighty  kind,  an'  all  that;*  but  it 
couldn't  make  me  feel  right.  I  didn't  like 
them  streets,  windin'  an'  twistin'  about,  an' 
allers  loosin'  a  feller;  an'  I  wasn't  to  hum. 
But  now,  youngsters,  I  know  what  I'm  doin'. 
Nobody  can't  lose  Dick  Lewis  on  the  prairy. 
I  know  the  names  of  all  the  streets  here;  an', 
'sides,  I  know  whar  they  all  lead  to.  An'  as 
fur  varmints,  thar's  none  of  'em  that  I  hain't 
trapped  an'  fit.  An'  Injuns!  I  know  a  leetle 
'bout  them,  I  reckon.  It's  funny  that  them  ar 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  23 

city  chaps  don't  know  nothin'  'bout  what's 
goin'  on  out  here;  an'  it  shows  that  all  the 
larnin'  in  the  world  ain't  got  out  o'  books. 
Send  one  of  'em  here,  an'  I  could  show  him  a 
thing  or  two  he  never  heern  tell  on.  But  I 
must  be  gettin'  breakfast,  'cause  we'll  be  off 
ag'in  soon;  an'  on  the  prairy  every  feller  has 
to  look  out  fur  himself.  You  can't  pull  a  ring 
in  the  wall  here,  an'  have  a  chap  with  white 
huntiu'  shirt  an'  morocker  moccasins  on  come 
up  an'  say:  'Did  you  ring,  sir?'  An'  how 
them  ar  fellers  knowed  which  room  to  come  to 
in  them  big  hotels,  is  something  I  can't  get 
through  my  head.  Thar's  no  big  bell  to  call 
ft  feller  to  grub  here.  Take  one  of  them  city 
chaps  an'  give  him  a  rifle,  an'  pint  out  over  the 
prairy  an'  tell  him  to  go  an'  hunt  up  his  break- 
fast, an'  how  would  he  come  out?  Could  he 
travel  by  the  sun,  or  tell  the  pints  of  the  com- 
pass by  the  stars?  Could  he  lasso  an'  ride  a 
wild  mustang,  or  shoot  a  Injun  plumb  atween 
the  eyes  at  two  hundred  an'  fifty  yards?  No! 
I  reckon  not!  Wai,  thar's  a  heap  o'  things  I 


24  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

couldn't  do;  an'  it  shows  that  every  man  had 
oughter  stick  to  his  own  business.  It's  all 
owin'  to  a  man's  bringin'  up." 

While  the  trapper  spoke  he  had  been  raking 
together  the  fire  that  had  nearly  gone  out; 
and  having  got  it  fairly  ^started,  he  began  the 
work  of  getting  breakfast.  The  boys,  after 
rolling  up  their  blankets  and  packing  them 
away  in  the  wagon,  amused  themselves  in 
watching  the  movements  of  the  emigrants, 
who  now  began  their  preparations  for  their 
day's  journey.  By  the  time  Uncle  James 
awoke,  the  trapper  pronounced  their  breakfast 
ready.  After  they  had  done  ample  justice  to 
the  homely  meal  (and  it  was  astonishing  what 
an  appetite  the  fresh  invigorating  air  of  the 
prairie  gave  them),  the  boys  packed  the  cook- 
ing utensils  away  in  the  wagon  while  the 
trapper  began  to  harness  the  mules.  This  was 
an  undertaking  that  a  less  experienced  man 
would  have  found  to  be  extremely  hazardous, 
for  the  animals  persisted  in  keeping  their 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  25 

heels  toward  him,  and  it  was  only  by  skilful 
maneuvering  that  Dick  succeeded  in  getting 
them  hitched  to  the  wagon.  By  the  time  this 
was  accomplished,  Uncle  James  and  the  boys 
had  saddled  their  horses  and  followed  the 
trapper,  who  drove  off  as  though  he  perfectly 
understood  what  he  was  about,  leaving  the 
train  to  follow  at  its  leisure. 

Dick  acted  as  if  he  had  again  found  him- 
self among  friends  from  whom  he  had-  long 
been  separated;  but  it  was  evident  that  sor- 
row was  mingled  with  joy,  for  on  every  side 
his  eye  rested  on  the  improvements  of  civiliza- 
tion. The  road  was  lined  with  fine,  well- 
stocked  farms,  and  the  prairie  over  which  his 
father  had  hunted  the  buffalo  and  fought  the 
Indian,  had  been  turned  up  by  the  plow,  and 
would  soon  be  covered  with  waving  crops.  No 
doubt  the  trapper's  thoughts  wandered  into 
the  future,  for,  as  the  boys  rode  up  beside 
the  wagon,  he  said,  with  something  like  a 
sigh: 

"  Things  ain't  as  they  used  to  be,  young- 


26  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

sters.  I  can  'member  the  time  when  thar 
wasn't  a  fence  within  miles  of  here,  an'  a  fel- 
ler could  go  out  an'  knock  over  a  buffaler  fur 
breakfast  jest  as  easy  as  that  farmer  over  thar 
could  find  one  of  his  sheep.  But  the  ax  an' 
plow  have  made  bad  work  with  a  fine  country, 
the  buffaler  an'  Injun  have  been  pushed  back 
t'wards  the  mountains,  an'  it  won't  be  long 
afore  thar'll  be  no  room  fur  sich  as  me;  an' 
we  won't  be  missed  neither,  'cause  when  the 
buffaler  an'  beaver  are  gone  thar'll  be  nothin' 
fur  us  to  do.  These  farms  will  keep  pushin' 
out  all  the  while;  an'  when  folks,  sittin'  in 
their  snug  houses  beside  their  warm  fires,  hear 
tell  of  the  Injuns  that  onct  owned  this  country, 
nobody  will  ever  think  that  sich  fellers  as  me 
an'  Bill  Lawson  an'  ole  Bob  Kelly  ever  lived. 
If  ole  Bill  was  here  now,  he  would  say:  '  Let's 
go  back  to  the  mountains,  Dick,  an'  stay  thar.' 
He  wouldn't  like  to  see  his  ole  huntin'  grounds 
wasted  in  this  way,  an'  I  don't  want  to  see  it 
neither.  But  I  know  that  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains an'  grizzly  bars  will  last  as  long  as  I 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  27 

shall,  an'  thar'll  be  no  need  of  trappers  an' 
hunters  an'  guides  arter  that." 

Dick  became  silent  after  this,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  train  halted  for  the  noon's  rest,  that 
he  recovered  his  usual  spirits. 


28  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ANTELOPE  HUNTING. 

GRADUALLY  the  train  left  the  improvements 
of  civilization  behind,  and,  at  the  end  of  three 
weeks,  it  was  miles  outside  of  a  fence.  Here 
the  trapper  was  in  his  natural  element.  He 
felt,  as  he  expressed,  "  like  a  young  one  jest 
out  o'  school,"  adding,  that  all  he  needed  was 
"  one  glimpse  of  a  Comanche  or  Cheyenne  to 
make  him  feel  perfectly  nat'ral." 

In  accordance  with  the  promise  he  had  made 
Frank  before  leaving  St.  Joseph,  he  now  took 
Pete  (that  was  the  name  the  latter  had  given 
his  horse)  under  his  especial  charge;  and  every 
morning,  at  the  first  peep  of  day,  the  boys  saw 
liiin  galloping  over  the  prairie,  firing  his  rifle 
as  fast  as  he  could  reload,  as  if  in  pursuit  of 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  29 

an  imaginary  herd  of  buffaloes.  At  first  the 
spirited  animal  objected  to  this  mode  of  treat- 
ment, and  made  the  most  desperate  efforts  to 
unseat  his  rider;  but  the  trapper,  who  had 
broken  more  than  one  wild  mustang,  was  per- 
fectly at  home  on  horseback,  and,  after  a  few 
exercises  of  this  kind,  Pete  was  turned  over 
to  his  young  master,  with  the  assurance  that 
he  was  ready  to  begin  buffalo  hunting.  Ac- 
cording to  Frank's  idea,  the  animal  had  im- 
proved considerably  under  the  trapper's  system 
of  training,  for  he  would  hardly  wait  for  his 
rider  to  be  fairly  in  the  saddle  before  he  would 
start  off  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  The  boys, 
who  considered  themselves  fully  able  to  do 
anything  that  had  ever  been  accomplished  by 
any  one  else,  having  seen  Dick  load  and  fire 
his  rifle  while  riding  at  full  speed,  began  to 
imitate  his  example,  and  in  a  short  time 
learned  the  art  to  perfection.  In  addition  to 
this,  each  boy  looked  upon  his  horse  as  the  bet- 
ter animal,  and  the  emigrants  were  witnesses 
to  many  a  race  between  them,  in  which  Sleepy 


3o  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Sam,  as  Archie  called  his  horse,  always  came 
off  winner.  But  Frank  kept  up  the  contest, 
and  at  every  possible  opportunity  the  horses 
were  "  matched,"  until  they  had  learned  their 
parts  so  well,  that  every  time  they  found 
themselves  together,  they  would  start  off  on  a 
race  without  waiting  for  the  word  from  their 
riders. 

One  morning,  just  after  the  train  had  left 
the  camp,  as  the  boys  were  riding  beside  the 
wagon,  listening  to  a  story  the  trapper  was  re- 
lating, the  latter  suddenly  stopped,  and,  point- 
ing toward  a  distant  swell,  said :  "  Do  you  see 
that  ar',  youngsters?  " 

The  boys,  after  straining  their  eyes  in  vain, 
brought  their  field-glass  into  requisition,  and 
finally  discovered  an  object  moving  slowly 
along  through  the  high  grass;  but  the  distance 
was  so  great,  they  could  not  determine  what  it 
was. 

"  That's  a  prong-horn,"  said  the  trapper  at 
length.  «  An'  now,  Frank,"  he  continued,  "  if 
you'll  lend  me  that  ar  hoss,  I'll  show  you  that 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  31 

all  the  huntin'  in  the  world  ain't  larnt  in  that 
leetle  patch  of  timber  around  Lawrence." 

Frank  at  once  dismounted,  and  Dick,  after 
securing  his  rifle,  sprung  into  the  saddle,  say- 
ing: 

"  Come  along  easy-like,  youngsters,  an*  when 
I  tell  you,  you  get  off  an'  hide  behind  your 
hoss." 

Frank  mounted  Sleepy  Sam  behind  Archie, 
and  they  followed  the  trapper,  who  led  the  way 
at  an  easy  gallop.  Useless,  at  his  master's 
command,  remained  with  the  wagon.  They 
rode  for  a  mile  at  a  steady  pace,  and  then,  see- 
ing that  the  game  had  discovered  them,  the 
boys,  at  a  signal  from  the  trapper,  stopped  and 
dismounted,  while  Dick  kept  on  alone,  his 
every  movement  closely  watched  by  Frank  and 
Archie,  who,  having  often  read  of  the  skill  re- 
quired in  hunting  antelopes,  were  anxious  to 
see  how  it  was  done.  The  trapper  rode  on  for 
about  half  a  mile  further,  and  then  the  boys 
saw  him  dismount,  unbuckle  the  bridle,  and 
hobble  his  horse  so  that  he  would  not  strav 


32  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

away.  He  then  threw  himself  on  his  hands 
and  knees,  and  disappeared.  A  quarter  of  an 
hour  afterward  the  boys  saw  his  'coon-skin  cap 
waving  above  the  grass.  If  this  was  intended 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  game,  it  did  not 
meet  with  immediate  success,  for  the  antelopes 
continued  to  feed  leisurely  up  the  swell,  and 
finally  some  of  their  number  disappeared  be- 
hind it.  The  boys  regarded  this  as  conclusive 
evidence  that  the  trapper's  plan  had  failed; 
but  at  length  one  of  the  antelopes,  which  stood 
a  little  apart  from  the  others,  and  appeared 
to  be  acting  as  sentinel,  uttered  a  loud  snort, 
which  instantly  brought  every  member  of  the 
herd  to  his  side.  They  remained  huddled  to- 
gether for  several  moments,  as  if  in  consulta- 
tion, and  then  began  to  move  slowly  down  the 
swell  toward  the  place  where  the  trapper  was 
concealed.  There  were  about  twenty  animals 
in  the  herd,  and  they  came  on  in  single  file, 
stopping  now  and  then  to  snuff  the  air  and 
examine  the  object  that  had  excited  their 
curiosity.  But  nothing  suspicious  was  to  be 


.Frank  on  the  Prairie.  33 

seen,  for  the  trapper  was  concealed  in  the 
grass,  the  only  thing  visible  being  his  cap, 
which  he  gently  waved  to  and  fro  as  he 
watched  the  movements  of  the  game.  The  an- 
telopes advanced  slowly — much  too  slowly  for 
the  impatient  boys,  who,  concealed  behind 
their  horse,  closely  watched  all  their  move- 
ments, fearful  that  they  might  detect  the  pres- 
ence of  the  trapper,  and  seek  safety  in  flight. 
But  the  latter  well  understood  the  matter  in 
hand,  and  presently  the  boys  saw  a  puff  of 
smoke  rise  from  the  grass,  and  the  nearest  of 
the  antelopes,  springing  into  the  air,  fell  dead 
in  his  tracks.  The  others  turned  and  fled  with 
the  speed  of  the  wind. 

In  an  instant  Frank  and  Archie  had 
mounted  and  when  they  reached  the  place 
where  the  trapper  was  standing,  he  had 
secured  his  prize,  which  was  one  of  the  most 
graceful  animals  the  boys  had  ever  seen.  It 
was  about  three  and  a  half  feet  high  at  the 
shoulders,  and,  although  Dick  pronounced  it 
very  fat,  its  body  was  slender  and  its  limbs 


34  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

small  and  muscular.  After  having  examined 
the  animal  to  their  satisfaction,  they  all 
mounted  their  horses,  Dick  carrying  the  game 
before  him  on  his  saddle ;  and  as  they  rode  to- 
ward the  wagon,  Archie  exclaimed : 

"  Now,  Frank,  we  know  how  to  hunt  ante- 
lopes. It  isn't  so  very^iard,  after  all." 

"Isn't  it?"  inquired  the  trapper,  with  a 
laugh.  "  You  don't  understand  the  natur  of 
the  critters,  when  you  say  that.  I  know  I 
killed  this  one  easy  but  a  feller  can't  allers  do 
it.  Howsomever,  you  can  try  your  hand  the 
next  time  we  meet  any,  an'  if  you  do  shoot  one, 
I'll  allers  call  you  my  '  antelope  killers.'  Them 
red  handkerchiefs  of  your'n  would  be  jest  the 
things  to  use,  'cause  the  critters  can  see  it  a 
long  way.  If  you  can  bring  one  of  'em  into 
camp,  it  will  be  something  wuth  braggin'  on." 

It  was  evident  that  the  trapper  did  not  en- 
tertain a  very  exalted  opinion  of  the  boys' 
"hunting  qualities;"  but  that  did  not  con- 
vince them  that  they  could  not  shoot  an  ante- 
lope. On  the  contrary,  it  made  them  all  the 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  35 

more  anxious  for  an  opportunity  to  try  their 
skill  on  the  game,  if  for  no  other  reason  than 
to  show  the  trapper  that  he  was  mistaken. 

Half  an  hour's  riding  brought  them  to  the 
wagon,  which  was  standing  where  they  had 
left  it,  and,  after  the  buck  had  been  skinned 
and  cleaned,  the  trapper  mounted  to  his  seat 
and  drove  after  the  train,  followed  by  the  boys, 
who  strained  their  eyes  in  every  direction  in 
the  hope  of  discovering  another  herd  of  ante- 
lopes. But  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a  prong- 
horn  was  to  be  seen;  and  when  the  train  re- 
sumed its  journey  after  its  noon  halt,  they 
gradually  fell  back  until  the  wagons  were  out 
of  sight  behind  the  hills.  Then,  leaving  the 
road,  they  galloped  over  the  prairie  until  they 
reached  the  top  of  a  high  swell,  when  they 
stopped  to  look  about  them.  About  two  miles 
to  the  left  was  the  train  slowly  winding  among 
the  hills;  but  the  most  faithful  use  of  their 
glass  failed  to  reveal  the  wished-for  game. 
All  that  afternoon  they  scoured  the  prairie  on 
both  sides  of  the  wagons,  and  when  it  began  to 


36  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

grow  dark,  they  reluctantly  turned  their  faces 
toward  the  camp. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  asked  the  trapper, 
as  the  boys  rode  up  to  the  wagon,  where  the 
latter  was  unharnessing  the  mules.  "  I  said 
you  couldn't  shoot  a  prong-horn." 

"  Of  course  we  couldn't,*'  answered  Archie, 
"  for  we  didn't  see  any  to  shoot." 

"  I  know  that,"  replied  the  trapper  with  a 
grin ;  "  but  7  seed  plenty.  The  next  time  you 
go  a  huntin'  prong-horns,  be  sartin  that  the 
Avind  blows  from  them  t'wards  you,  an'  not 
from  you  t'wards  them.  They've  got  sharp 
noses,  them  critters  haye." 

The  boys  were  astonished.  They  had  not 
thought  of  that ;  and  Archie  was  compelled  to 
acknowledge  that  "  there  was  something  in 
knowing  how,  after  all." 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  37 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  BEST  TRAPPER  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 

THAT  night  the  train  encamped  a  short  dis- 
tance from  one  of  the  stations  of  the  Overland 
Stnge  Company.  The  trapper,  as  usual,  after 
taking  care  of  his  mules,  superintended  the 
preparations  for  supper,  while  the  boys, 
wearied  with  their  day's  ride,  threw  themselves 
on  the  grass  near  the  wagon,  and  watched  his 
movements  with  a  hungry  eye.  Uncle  James, 
as  he  had  done  almost  every  night  since  leav- 
ing St.  Joseph,  walked  about  the  camp  play- 
ing with  the  children,  who  began  to  regard 
him  as  an  old  acquaintance.  Presently  the  at- 
tention of  the  boys  was  attracted  by  the  ap- 
proach of  a  stranger,  whose  long  beard  and 
thin  hair — both  as  white  as  snow — bore  evi- 


38  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

dence  to  the  fact  that  he  carried  the  burden  of 
many  years  on  his  shoulders. 

He  was  dressed  in  a  complete  suit  of  buck- 
skin, which,  although  well  worn,  was  neverthe- 
less very  neat,  and,  in  spite  of  his  years,  his 
step  was  firm,  and  he  walked  as  erect  as  an 
Indian.  He  carried  a  long  heavy  rifle  on  his 
shoulder,  and  from  his  belt  peeped  the  head 
of  a  small  hatchet  of  peculiar  shape,  and  the 
buck-horn  handle  of  a  hunting-knife.  He 
•walked  slowly  through  the  camp,  and  when  he 
came  opposite  the  boys,  Dick  suddenly  sprang 
from  the  ground  where  he  had  been  seated, 
watching  some  steaks  that  were  broiling  on  the 
coals,  and,  striding  up  to  the  stranger,  laid  his 
hand  on  his  shoulder.  The  latter  turned,  and, 
after  regarding  him  sharply  for  a  moment, 
thrust  out  his  hand,  which  the  trapper  seized 
and  wrung  in  silence.  For  an  instant  they 
stood  looking  at  each  other  without  speaking, 
and  then  Dick  took  the  old  man  by  the  arm 
and  led  him  up  to  the  fire,  exclaiming : 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  39 

"  Bob  Kelly,  the  oldest  an'  best  trapper  on 
the  prairy ! " 

The  boys  arose  as  he  approached,  and  re- 
garded him  with  curiosity.  They  had  heard 
their  guide  speak  in  the  highest  terms  of  "  ole 
Bob  Kelly,"  and  had  often  wished  to  see  the 
trapper  whom  Dick  was  willing  to  acknowl- 
edge as  his  superior.  There  he  was — a  mild, 
good-natured-looking  old  man,  the  exact  op- 
posite of  what  they  had  imagined  him  to  be. 

"  Them  are  city  chaps,  Bob  " — continued  the 
trapper,  as  the  old  man,  after  gazing  at  the 
boys  for  a  moment,  seated  himself  on  the 
ground  beside  the  fire — "  an'  I'm  takin'  'em 
out  to  Californy.  In  course  they  are  green 
consarnin'  prairy  life,  but  they  are  made  of 
good  stuff,  an'  are  'bout  the  keerlessest  young- 
sters you  ever  -see.  What  a  doin'  here,  Bob?  " 

"  Jest  lookin'  round,"  was  the  answer. 
"  I'm  mighty  glad  to  meet  you  ag'in,  'cause  it 
looks  nat'ral  to  see  you  'bout.  Things  ain't  as 
they  used  to  be.  Me  an'  you  are  'bout  the 
oldest  trappers  agoin'  now.  The  boys  have 


4O  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

gone  one  arter  the  other,  an'  thar's  only  me 
an'  you  left  that  I  knows  on." 

"  What's  come  on  Jack  Thomas? "  asked 
Dick. 

"  We're  both  without  our  chums  now,"  an- 
swered the  old  man,  sorrowfully.  "Jack  an' 
ole  Bill  Lawson  are  both  gone,  an'  their 
scalps  are  in  a  Comanche  wigwam." 

The  trapper  made  no  reply,  but  went  on  with 
his  preparations  for  supper  in  silence,  and  the 
boys  could  see  that  he  was  considerably  af- 
fected by  the  news  he  had  just  heard.  His 
every  movement  was  closely  watched  by  his 
companion,  who  seemed  delighted  to  meet  his 
old  acquaintance  once  more,  and  acted  as 
though  he  did  not  wish  to  allow  him  out  of  his 
sight.  There  was  evidently  a  good  deal  of 
honest  affection  between  these  two  men.  It 
did  not  take  the  form  of  words,  but  would  have 
showed  itself  had  one  or  the  other  of  them  been 
in  danger.  They  did  not  speak  again  until  Mr. 
Winters  came  up,  when  Dick  again  introduced 
his  friend  as  the  "  oldest  an'  best  trapper 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  41 

agoin'."  Uncle  James,  who  understood  the 
customs  of  the  trappers,  simply  ,  bowed — a 
greeting  which  the  old  man  returned  with  one 
short,  searching  glance,  as  if  he  meant  to  read 
his  very  thoughts. 

"  Now,  then !  "  exclaimed  Dick,  "  Grub's 
ready.  Pitch  in,  Bob." 

The  old  trapper  was  not  in  the  habit  of 
standing  upon  ceremony,  and,  drawing  his 
huge  knife  from  his  belt,  he  helped  himself  to 
a  generous  piece  of  the  meat,  and,  declined  the 
corn-bread  and  the  cup  of  coffee  which  the 
boys  passed  over  to  him,  made  his  meal  en- 
tirely of  venison.  After  supper — there  were 
but  few  dishes  to  wash  now,  for  the  boys  had 
learned  to  go  on  the  principle  that  "  fingers 
were  made  before  forks  " — the  trapper  hung 
what  remained  of  the  venison  in  the  wagon, 
lighted  his  pipe,  and  stretched  himself  on  the 
ground  beside  his  companion. 

The  boys,  knowing  that  the  trappers  would 
be  certain  to  talk  over  the  events  that  had 
transpired  since  their  last  meeting,  spread 


42  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

their  blankets  where  they  could  hear  all  that 
passed,  and  waited  impatiently  for  them  to 
begin;  while  Mr.  Winters,  who  had  by  this 
time  become  acquainted  with  every  man, 
woman,  and  child,  in  the  train,  started  to  pay 
a  visit  to  the  occupants  of  a  neighboring 
wagon. 

For  some  moments  the  two  men  smoked  in 
silence,  old  Bob  evidently  occupied  with  his 
own  thoughts,  and  Dick  patiently  waiting  for 
him  to  speak.    At  length  the  old  man  asked: 
"Goin'  to  Californy,  Dick?" 
The  trapper  replied  in  the  affirmative. 
"  What  a  goin'  to  do  arterward?  " 
"  I'm  a  goin'  to  take  to  the  mountains,  an' 
stay  thar,"  replied  Dick.     "  I've  seed  the  in- 
side of  a  city,  Bob;  have  rid  on  steam  rail- 
roads an'  boats  as  big  as  one  of  the  Black 
Hills;  an'  now  I'm  satisfied  to  stay  here.     I'd 
a  heap  sooner  face  a  grizzly  or  a  Injun  than  go 
back  thar  ag'in,  'cause  I  didn't  feel  to  hum." 

"  Wai,  I'm  all  alone  now,  Dick,"  said  the  old 
man,  "  an'  so  are  you.    Our  chums  are  gone, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  43 

an'  we  both  want  to  settle  with  them  Co- 
manche  varmints;  so,  let's  stick  together." 

Dick  seemed  delighted  with  this  proposition, 
for  he  quickly  arose  from  his  blanket  and  ex- 
tended his  hand  to  his  companion,  who  shook 
it  heartily;  and  the  boys  read  in  their  faces  a 
determination  to  stand  by  each  other  to  the 
last. 

"  I've  got  a  chum  now,  youngsters,"  said 
Dick,  turning  to  the  boys;  "  an'  one  that  I  ain't 
afraid  to  trust  anywhar.  Thar's  nothin'  like 
havin'  a  friend,  even  on  the  prairy.  I  come 
with  the  boys,"  he  added,  addressing  his  com- 
panion, who,  seeing  the  interest  Dick  took  in 
his  "youngsters,"  slowly  surveyed  them  from 
head  to  foot — "  I  come  with  'em  jest  to  show 
'em  how  we  do  things  on  the  prairy.  They  can 
shoot  consid'ble  sharp,  an'  ain't  afraid.  All  it 
wants  is  the  hard  knocks — fightin'  Injuns  an' 
grizzlies,  an'  starvin'  on  the  prairy,  an'  freezin' 
in  the  mountains,  to  make  trappers  of  'em." 
And  here  Dick  settled  back  on  his  elbow,  and 
proceeded  to  give  the  old  man  a  short  account 


44  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

of  what  had  transpired  at  Uncle  Joe's  cabin; 
described  Frank's  fight  with  the  moose  and 
panther  in  glowing  language;  told  how  the 
capture  of  the  cubs  had  been  effected,  until 
old  Bob  began  to  be  interested ;  and  when  Dick 
finished  his  story,  he  said: 

"  The  youngsters  would  make  good  trap- 
pers." 

This,  as  the  trapper  afterward  told  the  boys, 
was  a  compliment  old  Bob  seldom  paid  to  any 
one,  "  for,"  said  he,  "I've  knowed  him  a  long 
time,  an'  have  been  in  many  a  fight  with  him, 
an'  he  never  told  me  I  was  good  or  bad." 

"  Wai,"  said  Dick,  again  turning  to  his  com- 
panion, "  You  said  as  how  Jack  Thomas  was 
rubbed  out.  How  did  it  happen?" 

Old  Bob  refilled  his  pipe,  smoked  a  few  mo- 
ments as  if  to  bring  the  story  fresh  to  his 
memory,  and  then  answered: 

"  When  I  heered  that  Bill  Lawson  war 
gone,  an'  that  you  war  left  alone,  I  done  my 
best  to  find  you,  an'  get  you  to  jine  a  small 
party  we  war  makin'  up  to  visit  our  ole  huntin' 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  45 

grounds  on  the  Saskatchewan;  but  you  had 
tuk  to  the  mountains,  and  nobody  didn't  know 
wliar  to  go  to  find  you.  Thar  war  eight  of  us 
in  the  party,  an'  here,  you  see,  are  all  that  are 
left.  As  nigh  as  I  can  'member,  it  war  'bout 
four  year  ago  come  spring  that  we  sot  out 
from  the  fort,  whar  we  had  sold  our  furs.  We 
had  three  pack  mules,  plenty  of  powder,  ball, 
an'  sich  like,  an'  we  started  in  high  sperits, 
tellin'  the  trader  that  bought  our  spelter  that 
we'd  have  a  fine  lot  fur  him  ag'in  next  meetin' 
time.  We  knowed  thar  war  plenty  of  Injuns 
an'  sich  varmints  to  be  fit  an'  killed  afore  we 
come  back,  but  that  didn't  trouble  us  none, 
'cause  we  all  knowed  our  own  bisness,  and 
didn't  think  but  that  we  would  come  through 
all  right,  jest  as  we  had  done  a  hundred  times 
afore.  We  didn't  intend  to  stop  afore  we  got 
to  the  Saskatchewan;  so  we  traveled  purty 
fast,  an'  in  'bout  three  weeks  found  ourselves 
in  the  Blackfoot  country,  nigh  the  Missouri 
River.  One  night  we  camped  on  a  leetle 
stream  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  an'  the 


46  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

next  mornin',  jest  as  we  war  gettin'  ready  to 
start  out  ag'in,  Jack  Thomas — who,  like  a 
youngster  turned  loose  from  school,  war  allers 
runnin'  round,  pokin'  his  nose  into  whatever 
war  goin1  on — came  gallopin'  into  camp,  shout- 
ing: 

"'Buffaler!  buffaler!' 

"  In  course,  we  all  knowed  what  that  meant, 
an'  as  we  hadn't  tasted  buffaler  hump  since 
leavin'  the  fort,  we  saddled  up  in  a  hurry  an' 
put  arter  the  game.  We  went  along  kinder 
easy-like — Jack  leadin'  the  way — until  we 
come  to  the  top  of  a  swell,  an'  thar  they  war 
— nothin'  but  buffaler  as  fur  as  a  feller  could 
see.  It  war  a  purty  sight,  an'  more'n  one  of  us 
made  up  our  minds  that  we  would  have  a  good 
supper  that  night.  We  couldn't  get  no  nigher 
to  'em  without  bein'  diskivered,  so  we  scat- 
tered and  galloped  arter  'em.  In  course,  the 
minit  we  showed  ourselves  they  put  off  like 
the  wind ;  but  we  war  in  easy  shootin'  distance, 
an'  afore  we  got  through  with  'em,  I  had 
knocked  over  four  big  fellers  an'  wounded 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  47 

another.  He  war  hurt  so  bad  he  couldn't  run ; 
but  I  didn't  like  to  go  up  too  clost  to  him,  so  I 
rid  off  a  leetle  way,  an'  war  loadin'  up  my  rifle 
to  give  him  a  settler,  when  I  heered  a  noise 
that  made  me  prick  up  my  ears  an'  look  sharp. 
I  heered  a  trampin,  an'  I  knowed  it  war  made 
by  something  'sides  a  buffaler.  Now,  young- 
sters, a  greenhorn  wouldn't  a  seed  anything 
strange  in  that;  but  when  I  heered  it,  I  didn't 
stop  to  kill  the  wounded  buffaler,  but  turned 
my  hoss  an'  made  tracks.  I  hadn't  gone 
more'n  twenty  rod  afore  I  seed  four  Black- 
foot  Injuns  comin'  over  a  swell  'bout  half  a 
mile  back.  I  had  kept  my  eyes  open — as  I 
allers  do — but  I  hadn't  seen  a  bit  of  Injun  sign 
on  the  prairy,  an'  I  made  up  my  mind  to  onct 
that  them  Blackfoot  varmints  had  been  shy  in' 
round  arter  the  same  buffaler  we  had  jest  been 
chasin',  an'  that  they  didn't  know  we  war 
'bout  till  they  heered  us  shoot.  Then,  in 
course,  they  put  arter  us,  'cause  they  think  a 
heap  more  of  scalps  than  they  do  of  buffaler 
meat. 


48  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

"  Wai,  as  I  war  sayin',  I  made  tracks  sud- 
den; but  they  warn't  long  in  diskiverin'  me, 
an'  they  sot  up  a  yell.  I've  heered  that  same 
yell  often,  an'  I  have  kinder  got  used  to  it ;  but 
I  would  have  give  my  boss,  an'  this  rLfle,  too, 
that  I  have  carried  for  goin'  nigh  onto  twenty 
year,  if  I  had  been  safe  in  Fort  Laramie, 
'cause  I  didn't  think  them  four  Injuns  war 
alone.  I  war  sartin  they  had  friends  not  a 
great  way  off,  an'  somehow  I  a'most  knowed 
how  the  hul  thing  was  comin'  out.  I  didn't 
hardly  know  which  way  to  go  to  find  our  fel- 
lers, 'cause  while  we  were  arter  the  buffaler 
we  had  got  scattered  a  good  deal;  but  jest  as 
I  come  to  the  top  of  a  swell  I  seed  'em  acomin'. 
Jack  Thomas  war  ahead,  an'  he  war  swingin' 
his  rifle  an'  yellin'  wusser  nor  any  Injun.  I'll 
allow,  Dick,  that  it  made  me  fell  a  heap  easier 
when  I  seed  them  trappers.  Jack,  who  allers 
knowed  what  war  goin'  on  in  the  country  fur 
five  miles  round,  had  first  diskivered  the  In- 
juns, an'  had  got  all  the  party  together  'cept 
me,  an'  in  course  they  couldn't  think  of  savin* 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  49 

their  own  venison  by  runnin'  off  and  leavin' 
me. 

"  Wai,  jest  as  soon  as  we  got  together  we 
set  up  a  yell  and  faced  'bout.  The  Injuns,  up 
to  this  time,  had  rid  clost  together;  but  when 
they  seed  that  we  warn't  goin'  to  run  no 
further  jest  then,  they  scattered  as  if  they  war 
goin'  to  surround  us;  an'  then  we  all  knowed 
that  them  four  Injuns  warn't  alone.  So,  with- 
out stoppin*  to  fight  'em,  we  turned  an'  run 
ag'in,  makin'  tracks  for  the  woods  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountains.  An'  we  warn't  a  minit  too 
soon,  fur  all  of  a  sudden  we  heered  a  yell,  an' 
lookin'  back  we  seed  'bout  fifty  more  redskins 
com  in'  arter  us  like  mad.  They  had  a'most  got 
us  surrounded;  but  the  way  to  the  mountains 
war  open,  an'  we  run  fur  our  lives.  The  var- 
lets  that  had  followed  me  war  in  good  pluggin' 
distance,  an'  when  we  turned  in  our  saddles 
an7  drawed  a  bead  on  'em,  we  had  four  less  to 
deal  with.  It  warn't  more'n  ten  mile  to  the 
foot  of  them  mountains,  but  it  seemed  a  hun- 
dred to  us,  an'  we  all  drawed  a  long  breath 


5o  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

when  we  found  ourselves  under  kiver  of  the 
woods.  The  minit  we  reached  the  timber  we 
jumped  off  our  bosses,  hitched  them  to  the 
trees,  an'  made  up  our  minds  to  fight  it  out 
thar  an'  then.  We  knowed,  as  well  as  we 
wanted  to  know,  what  the  Injuns  would  do 
next — they  would  leave  a  party  on  the  Prairy 
to  watch  us,  an'  the  rest  would  go  sneakin' 
round  through  the  woods  an'  pick  us  off  one 
at  a  time.  The  only  thing  we  could  do — least- 
wise till  it  come  dark — war  to  watch  the  var- 
lets,  an'  drop  every  one  of  'em  that  showed 
his  painted  face  in  pluggin'  distance.  We  war 
in  a  tight  place.  Our  pack  mules,  an'  a'most 
all  our  kit,  had  been  left  in  the  camp,  an'  we 
knowed  it  wouldn't  be  long  afore  the  Injuns 
would  have  'em,  an'  even  if  we  got  off  with  our 
har,  we  wouldn't  be  much  better  off — no  traps, 
no  grub,  an'  skeercely  half  a  dozen  bullets  in 
our  pouches. 

"Wai,  the  Injuns,  when  they  seed  that  we 
had  tuk  to  the  timber,  stopped,  takin'  mighty 
.good  keer,  as  they  thought,  to  keep  out  of 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  51 

range  of  our  rifles,  an'  began  to  hold  a  palaver, 
now  an'  then  lookin'  t'wards  us  an'  settin'  up 
a  yell,  which  told  us  plain  enough  that  they 
thought  they  had  us  ketched.  But  we,  knowiu' 
to  an  inch  how  fur  our  shootin'  irons  would 
carry,  drawed  up  an'  blazed  away;  an'  we 
knowed,  by  the  way  them  red-skins  got  back 
over  that  swell,  that  we  hadn't  throwed  our 
lead  away.  They  left  one  feller  thar  to  watch 
us,  howsomever,  but  he  tuk  mighty  good  keer 
to  keep  purty  well  out  of  sight,  showin'  only 
'bout  two  inches  of  his  head  'bove  the  top  of 
the  hill.  While  the  Injuns  war  holdin'  their 
council,  we  had  a  talk  'bout  what  we  had  bet- 
ter do.  The  truth  war,  thar  war  only  one 
thing  we  could  do,  an'  that  war  to  stay  thar 
until  dark  an'  then  take  our  chances.  We  had 
all  fit  savage  Injuns  enough  to  know  that  they 
wouldn't  bother  us  much  so  long  as  daylight 
lasted;  but  arter  that,  if  we  didn't  get  away 
from  thar,  our  lives  war  not  worth  a  charge 
of  powder.  We  soon  made  up  our  minds  what 
we  would  do.  We  divided  ourselves  into  two 


52  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

parties — four  of  us  watchin'  the  prairy,  an' 
the  others  keepin'  an  eye  on  the  woods,  to  see 
-that  the  varlets  didn't  slip  up  behind  us. 

"  Wai,  we  didn't  see  nothin'  out  of  the  way 
all  that  day.  Thar  war  that  feller  peepin' 
over  the  hill,  an'  that  war  the  only  thing  in 
the  shape  of  a  red-skin  we  could  see;  an'  we 
didn't  hear  nothin'  neither,  fur  whatever  they 
done,  they  didn't  make  noise  enough  to  skeer 
a  painter.  At  last  it  come  night,  an'  it  war 
'bout  the  darkest  night  I  ever  see — no  moon, 
no  stars — an'  then  we  began  to  prick  up  our 
ears.  We  all  knowed  that  the  time  had  come. 
You  can  easy  tell  what  we  war  passin'  through 
our  minds.  Thar  warn't  no  sich  thing  as  a 
coward  among  us  eight  fellers,  but  men  in  sich 
a  scrape  as  that  can't  help  thinkin',  an'  I 
knowed  that  every  one  thar  drawed  a  long 
breath  when  he  thought  of  what  he  had  got 
to  do.  I  tell  you,  Dick,  it  war  something  none 
of  us  liked  to  do — leave  one  another  in  that 
way — men  that  you  have  hunted,  an'  trapped, 
an'  fought  Injuns  with,  an'  mebbe  slept  under 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  53 

the  same  blanket  with,  an'  who  have  stuck 
to  you  through  thick  an'  thin — sich  fellers,  I 
say,  you  don't  like  to  desart  when  they're  in 
danger.  But  what  else  could  we  do?  We  war 
a'niost  out  of  powder  an'  lead,  an'  the  Injuns 
war  more'n  six  to  our  one.  You  have  been 
in  sich  scrapes,  an'  in  course  know  that  thar 
warn't  but  one  way  open  to  us. 

"  Wai,  as  I  was  savin',  as  soon  as  it  come 
fairly  dark,  the  boys  gathered  'round  me,  an' 
waited  to  hear  what  I  war  goin'  to  do.  In 
course,  I  couldn't  advise  'em,  'cause  it  war 
every  feller  look  out  fur  himself,  an'  the  best 
men  war  them  as  was  lucky  enough  to  get 
away.  So  I  said: 

"  '  I'm  goin'  to  start  now,  boys.  It's  high 
time  we  war  movin\  cause  if  we  stay  here  half 
an  hour  longer,  we'll  have  them  red-skins  down 
on  us  in  a  lump.  Thars  somethin'  goin'  on, 
sartin.  They  don't  keep  so  still  fur  nothin'.' 

"  Wai,  we  whispered  the  matter  over,  an' 
finally  settled  it.  The  oldest  man  war  to  go 
fust;  the  next  oldest,  second;  an'  so  on;  an' 


54  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

that  them  as  got  away  should  draw  a  bee-line 
fur  Fort  Laramie,  an'  get  thar  to  onct,  so 
that  we  might  know  who  got  off  an'  who  didn't. 
We  didn't  think  we  should  all  get  away.  Some 
war  sartin  to  go  under;  an',  Dick,  we  didn't 
forget  to  promise  each  other  that  those  of  us 
that  lived  would  never  let  a  red  Injun  cross 
our  trail.  When  everything  was  .settled,  I 
bein'  the  oldest  man  in  the  comp'ny,  began  to 
get  ready  fur  the  start.  I  put  fresh  prim  in' 
in  my  rifle ;  seed  that  my  knife  and  tomahawk 
war  all  right;  then,  arter  shakin'  hands  with 
all  the  boys,  an'  wish  in'  'em  good  luck,  I 
crawled  away  on  my  hands  an'  knees.  I  didn't 
go  back  into  the  woods,  but  tuk  to  the  edge  of 
the  prairy,  an'  found  the  way  cl'ar.  Not  an 
Injun  did  I  hear.  As  fur  seem',  you  couldn't 
a  told  your  mother,  if  she  warn't  two  foot 
from  you ;  an'  in  'bout  half  an  hour  I  found  my- 
self on  the  banks  of  a  leetle  creek.  How  long- 

C? 

I  lay  thar,  an'  how  much  of  that  water  I  drunk, 
I  don't  know ;  but  I  thought  water  never  tasted 
so  good  afore.  Then  I  walked  into  the  creek, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  55 

an'  had  waded  in  it  fur  'bout  half  a  mile,  when 
all  to  onct  I  heered  a  yell  in'  an'  whoopin',  fol- 
lowed by  the  crack  of  rifles,  an'  then  I  knowed 
that  I  hadn't  been  fooled  consarniu'  what  the 
red-skins  meant  to  do.  They  had  got  what  war 
left  of  our  fellers  surrounded,  an'  made  the 
rush.  For  a  minit  I  stood  thar  in  the  water 
an'  listened.  I  heered  a  few  shots  made  by  our 
poor  fellers,  'cause  I  can  tell  the  crack  of  a 
Missouri  rifle  as  fur  as  I  can  hear  it;  an'  then 
one  long,  loud  yell,  told  me  that  it  war  all 
over. 

"  Wai,  I  laid  round  in  them  mountains  fur 
more'n  six  weeks,  starvin'  fur  grub  an'  water, 
an'  listenin'  to  the  yellin'  varlets  that  war 
Imntin'  arter  me;  but  I  got  back  safe  at  last, 
arter  walkin'  all  the  way  from  the  Rocky 
Mountains  to  the  fort,  an'  thar  I  found  Jack 
Thomas.  Me  an'  him  war  the  only  ones  that 
got  out.  When  the  Injuns  got  them  six  fel- 
lers, they  rubbed  out  nearly  the  last  one  of 
our  comp'ny.  Me  an'  Jack  war  mighty  down- 
hearted 'bout  it,  an'  it  war  a  long  time  afore 


\ 

56  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

we  could  believe  that  we  war  left  alone.  We 
didn't  feel  then  like  ever  goin'  back  to  the 
mountains  ag'in,  'cause  we  knowed  it  would 
be  lonesome  thar.  In  course,  we  could  easy 
have  made  up  another  expedition,  fur  thar  war 
plenty  of  hunters  an'  trappers — good  ones,  too 
— hangin'  round  the  fort;  but  somehow  we 
didn't  feel  like  goin'  off  with  any  one  outside 
of  our  own  comp'ny. 

"  Wai,  me  and  Jack  laid  round  as  long  as 
we  could  stand  it,  an'  then  we  got  a  couple  of 
hosses,  another  new  kit,  an'  sot  off  ag'in.  We 
didn't  think  it  safe  fur  only  two  of  us  to  try 
the  Black  foot  country  ag'in,  so  we  struck  for 
the  huntin'  grounds  on  the  Colorado.  At  that 
time  thar  war  plenty  of  beaver  in  that  river; 
so  it  didn't  take  us  long  to  find  a  place  that 
suited  us;  an'  we  settled  down,  comfortable- 
like,  to  spend  the  winter.  Fur  three  months 
we  had  plenty  of  sport,  an'  the  sight  of  our  pile 
of  furs,  grow  in'  bigger  an'  bigger  every  day, 
made  us  happy  an'  contented.  One  mornin' 
we  sot  out  bright  an'  'arly,  as  usual,  to  'tend  to 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  57 

our  bisness,  takin'  different  directions — fur 
my  traps  war  sot  on  the  side  of  the  mountain, 
an'  Jack  had  sot  his'n  on  the  banks  of  the 
creek  that  run  through  the  valley.  I  had  been 
gone  frum  him  but  a  short  time,  when  I  heered 
the  crack  of  his  rifle.  Somehow,  I  knowed  it 
A\ar  somethin'  'sides  a  varmint  he  had  shot  at; 
an'  I  warn't  fooled  neither,  for  a  mi  nit  arter- 
ward  I  heered  another  gun,  an'  then  afore  I 
could  think  twice  a  Comanche  yell  come 
echoin'  from  the  valley,  tellin'  me  plainer  nor 
words  that  my  chum  war  gone.  An  Injun  had 
watched  one  of  his  traps,  an'  shot  him  as  he 
come  to  it.  I  knowed  it  as  sartin  as  if  I  had 
seed  the  hul  thing  done. 

"  Wai,  I  warn't  in  a  fix  kalkerlated  to  make 
a  feller  feel  very  pleasant.  I  war  three  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  nighest  fort,  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  Comanche  country,  an'  in  the  dead 
of  winter,  with  the  snow  two  foot  deep  on  a 
level.  But  I  didn't  stop  to  think  of  them 
Hiings  then.  My  bisness  war  to  get  away  from 
thar  to  onct.  In  course,  I  couldn't  go  back 


58  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

arter  my  boss  or  spelter,  fur  I  didn't  know  how 
many  Injuns  thar  war  in  the  valley,  nor  whar 
they  had  hid  themselves;  so  I  shouldered  my 
rifle  an'  sot  off  on  foot  t' wards  the  prairy.  A 
.storm  that  come  up  that  night — an'  it  snowed 
an'  blowed  in  a  way  that  warn't  a  funny  thing 
to  look  at — kivered  up  my  trail;  an'  if  I  war 
ever  follered,  I  don't  know  it. 

"  I  finally  reached  the  fort,  an'  I've  been 
thar  ever  since.  I'm  an  ole  chap  now,  Dick; 
but  when  I  hunted  an'  trapped  with  your  ole 
man,  when  me  an'  him  warn't  bigger  nor  them 
two  youngsters,  an'  hadn't  hardly  strength 
enough  to  shoulder  a  rifle,  I  never  thought  that 
I  should  live  to  be  the  last  of  our  comp'ny.  In 
them  days  the  prairy  war  different  from  what 
it  is  now.  It  war  afore  the  hoss-thieves  an' 
rascals  began  to  come  in  here  to  get  away  from 
the  laws  of  the  States;  an'  them  that  called 
themselves  trappers  then  war  honest  men,  that 
never  did  harm  to  a  lone  person  on  the  prairy. 
But  they've  gone,  one  arter  the  other,  an'  only 
me  an'  you  are  left." 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  59 

As  the  old  trapper  ceased  speaking,  he  arose 
suddenly  to  his  feet  and  disappeared  in  the 
darkness,  leaving  Dick  gazing  thoughtfully 
into  the  fire.  It  was  an  hour  before  he  re- 
turned, mounted  on  his  horse,  which  he  pick- 
eted with  the  others.  He  then  silently  rolled 
himself  up  in  his  blanket  and  went  to  sleep. 


60  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  FIGHT  WITH  THE  INDIANS. 

WHEN  setting  out  the  next  morning,  Frank 
noticed  that  the  wagons,  instead  of  starting 
off  singly,  and  straggling,  as  they  had  formerly 
done,  kept  close  together,  and  traveled  more 
rapidly.  The  trapper,  too,  instead  of  taking 
the  lead,  and  getting  in  advance  of  the  train, 
seemed  satisfied  to  remain  with  the  others. 
Upon  inquiring  the  reason  for  this,  Dick 
replied : 

"  You  may  find  out  afore  night,  youngster, 
that  we  are  in  a  bad  bit  of  Injun  country.  The 
train  that  went  out  afore  us  had  a  scrimmage 
here  with  nigh  five  hundred  of  the  red-skins, 
who  stampeded  some  of  their  stock.  So  keep 
your  eyes  open,  an'  if  you  see  a  Injun,  let  me 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  61 

know  to  onct."  The  trapper  said  this  with  a 
broad  grin,  that  was  meant  to  imply  that  if 
they  were  attacked,  the  Indians  would  make 
their  appearance  before  a  person  so  inexpe- 
rienced as  Frank  could  be  aware  of  it. 

"  The  red-skins  don't  generally  keer  'bout  an 
out-an'-out  fight,"  continued  the  trapper, 
"  cause  they  don't  like  these  long  rifles,  an' 
tlicy  know  that  these  yere  pioneers  shoot 
mighty  sharp.  All  the  Injuns  want — or  all 
they  can  get — is  the  stock ;  an'  they  sometimes 
jump  on  to  a  train  afore  a  feller  knows  it,  an' 
yell  an"  kick  up  a  big  fuss,  which  frightens  the 
tattle.  That's  what  we  call  stampedin'  'em. 
An',  youngster,  do  you  see  that  'ar?  " 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  he  pointed  out  over 
the  prairie  towards  a  little  hill  about  two  miles 
distant.  After  gazing  for  a  few  moments  in 
the  direction  indicated,  Archie  replied : 

"  I  see  something  that  looks  like  a  weed  or 
a  tuft  of  grass." 

"  Wai,  that's  no  weed,"  said  the  trapper, 
with  a  laugh,  "  nor  grass,  neither.  If  it  is,  it's 


62  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

on  hossback,  an'  carries  a  shootin'-iron  or  a  bow 
an'  arrer.  That's  a  Injun,  or  I  never  seed  one 
afore.  What  do  you  say,  Bob? "  he  asked, 
turning  to  the  old  trapper,  who  at  this  moment 
came  up. 

"  I  seed  that  five  minutes  ago,"  was  the 
reply,  "  an'  in  course  it  can't  be  nothin'  but  a 
red-skin." 

The  boys  gazed  long  and  earnestly  at  the 
object,  but  their  eyes  were  not  as  sharp  as 
those  of  the  trappers,  for  they  could  not  dis- 
cover that  it  bore  any  resemblance  to  an  In- 
dian, until  Mr.  Winters  handed  them  his  field- 
glass  through  which  he  had  been  regarding  the 
object  ever  since  its  discovery.  Then  they 
found  that  the  trappers  had  not  been  deceived. 
It  was  a  solitary  Indian,  who  sat  on  his  horse 
as  motionless  as  a  statue,  no  doubt  watching 
the  train,  and  endeavoring  to  satisfy  himself 
of  the  number  of  men  there  might  be  to  defend 
it.  In  his  hand  he  carried  something  that 
looked  like  a  spear  adorned  with  a  tuft  of 
feathers. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  63 

"  I  wish  the  varlet  was  in  good  pluggin'  dis- 
tance," said  Dick,  patting  his  rifle  which  lay 
across  his  knees.  "  If  I  could  only  get  a  bead 
on  him,  he  would  never  carry  back  to  his  fel- 
lers the  news  of  what  lie  has  seed." 

"  Do  you  suppose  there  are  more  of  them?  " 
asked  Archie,  in  a  voice  that  would  tremble  in 
spite  of  himself. 

"  Sartin,"  replied  old  Bob  Kelly,  who  still 
rode  beside  the  wagon ;  "  thar's  more  of  'em 
not  fur  off.  This  feller  is  a  kind  o'  spy  like, 
an'  when  he  has  seen  exactly  how  things  stand, 
he'll  go  back  an  'tell  the  rest  of  'em,  an'  the 
fust  thing  we  know,  they'll  be  down  on  us  like 
a  hawk  on  a  June-bug.  But  they'll  ketch  a 
weasel,  they  will,  when  they  pitch  into  us. 
Dick,  when  they  do  come,  don't  forget  Bill 
Lawson." 

The  trapper  turned  his  head,  for  a  moment, 
as  if  to  hide  the  emotion  he  felt,  at  the  mention 
of  the  name  of  his  departed  companion,  but 
presently  replied: 

"  This  ain't  the  fust  time  that  you  an'  me 


64  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

have  been  in  jest  sick  scrapes,  Bob,  an'  it  ain't 
likely  that  we'll  soon  forget  that  we  owe  the 
varlets  a  long  settlement.  Thar  ain't  as  many 
of  us  now  as  thar  used  to  be ;  more'n  one  good 
trapper  has  had  his  har  raised  by  them  same 
red-skins — fur  I  know  a  Cheyenne  as  fur  as  I 
kin  see  him,  youngsters — an'  mebbe  one  o* 
these  days,  when  someone  asks,  '  What's  come 
on  ole  Bob  Kelly  an'  Dick  Lewis? '  the  answer 
will  be,  '  Killed  by  the  Injuns! ' 

It  may  be  readily  supposed  that  such  con- 
versation as  tliis  was  not  calculated  to  quiet 
the  feelings  of  Frank  and  Archie — who  had 
been  considerably  agitated  by  the  information 
that  there  was  a  body  of  hostile  Indians  at  no 
great  distance — and  to  their  excited  imagina- 
tions the  danger  appeared  tenfold  worse  than 
it  really  was.  At  that  day,  as  the  trapper  had 
remarked,  it  was  a  very  uncommon  occurrence 
for  a  large  train  to  be  engaged  in  a  regular 
fight  with  the  Indians,  for  the  latter  had 
learned  to  their  cost  that  the  pioneers  were 
always  well  armed,  and  that  there  were  some 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  65 

among  them  who  understood  Indian  fighting. 
They  generally  contented  themselves  with  sud- 
den and  rapid  raids  upon  the  stock  of  the  emi- 
grants, and  they  seldom  departed  empty- 
handed.  But  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  the 
trappers,  who  had  participated  in  numberless 
engagements  with  the  savages,  and  witnessed 
deeds  of  cruelty  that  had  awakened  in  them  a 
desire  for  vengeance,  should  delight  to  talk 
over  their  experience.  The  boys,  although  con- 
siderably frightened,  were  still  greatly  en- 
couraged by  their  example.  Dick  twisted  un- 
easily on  his  seat,  as  though  impatient  for  the 
fight  to  begin,  now  and  then  looking  toward 
the  spy,  as  if  he  had  half  a  mind  to  venture  a 
shot  at  him;  while  old  Bob  Kelly  rode  along, 
smoking  his  pipe,  apparently  as  unconcerned 
as  though  there  was  not  a  hostile  Indian 
within  a  hundred  miles  of  them.  Mr.  Winters 
evidently  partook  of  the  old  man's  indifference, 
for,  after  satisfying  himself  that  his  weapons 
were  in  readiness,  he  drew  back  beside  his 
nephews,  and  said,  with  a  smile: 


66  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

"  Well,  boys,  you  may  have  an  opportunity 
to  try  your  skill  on  big  game  now.  This  will 
be  a  little  different  from  the  fight  you  had 
in  the  woods  with  those  Indians  who  stole 
your  traps.  Then  you  had  the  force  on  your 
side;  now  the  savages  are  the  stronger  party. 
But  there's  no  danger,"  he  added,  quickly 
seeing  that  the  boys  looked  rather  anxious; 
"  every  man  in  the  train  is  a  good  shot,  and  the 
most  of  them  have  been  in  Indian  fights  before. 
I  don't  believe  all  the  red-skins  on  the  prairie 
could  whip  us  while  we  have  Dick  and  Bob 
with  us." 

The  boys  themselves  had  great  confidence  in 
the  trappers — especially  Dick,  who,  they  knew, 
would  never  desert  them.  But  even  he  had 
several  times  been  worsted  by  the  Indians. 
Frank  thought  of  the  story  of  the  lost  wagon 
train.  But  then  he  remembered  that  the 
reason  that  train  was  captured,  was  because 
the  emigrants  had  not  "  stood  up  to  the  mark 
like  men." 

All  this  while  the  train  had  been  moving 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  67 

ihead  at  a  rapid  pace,  and  many  an  anxious 
eye  was  directed  toward  the  solitary  Indian, 
\\  ho  remained  standing  where  he  was  first  dis- 
covered until  the  wagons  had  passed,  when  he 
suddenly  and  mysteriously  disappeared.  All 
that  day  the  emigrants  rode  with  their  weap- 
ons in  their  hands,  in  readiness  to  repel  an 
attack;  and  when  they  halted  at  noon,  guards 
were  posted  about  the  camp,  and  the  cattle 
were  kept  close  to  the  wagons.  But,  although 
now  and  then  a  single  Indian  would  be  seen 
upon  one  of  the  distant  swells,  the  main  body 
kept  out  of  sight;  and  the  boys  began  to  hope 
that  the  train  was  considered  too  large  to  be 
successfully  attacked.  At  night  old  Bob  Kelly 
selected  the  place  for  the  encampment,  which 
was  made  according  to  his  directions.  The 
wagons  were  drawn  up  in  a  circle  to  form  a 
breastwork,  and  the  cattle  were  picketed  close 
by  under  the  protection  of  a  strong  guard. 
Fires  were  built,  and  preparations  for  supper 
carried  on  as  usual,  for,  of  course,  all  attempts 
a*-  concealment  would  have  been  time  and 


68  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

labor  thrown  away.  As  soon  as  it  began  to 
grow  dark,  the  cattle  were  secured  to  the 
wagons  by  long  stout  ropes,  which,  while  they 
allowed  the  animals  to  graze,  effectually  pre- 
vented escape.  Then  guards  were  selected, 
and  the  emigrants  made  every  preparation  to 
give  the  savages  a  warm  reception,  in  case 
they  should  make  a  dash  upon  the  camp.  No 
one  thought  of  his  blanket.  The  idea  of  going 
to  sleep  while  a  band  of  Indians  was  hovering 
about,  watching  their  opportunity  to  pounce 
down  upon  them,  was  out  of  the  question.  The 
two  trappers,  after  satisfying  themselves  that 
everything  was  in  readiness  for  an  attack, 
began  to  station  the  guards.  Frank  again 
thought  of  the  story  Dick  had  related  of  the 
lost  wagon  train,  and,  desiring  to  witness  an 
exhibition  of  the  skill  that  had  enabled  him 
to  detect  the  presence  of  the  Indians  on  that 
occasion,  proposed  to  Archie  that  they  should 
stand  guard  with  him.  The  latter,  who  always 
felt  safe  when  in  the  company  of  their  guide, 
agreed;  and  when  the  trapper  started  off  with 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  69 

the  guards,  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  boys 
at  his  side. 

"  Wlmr  are  you  goin'?"  he  asked. 

"  \Ve  want  to  stand  guard  with  you ! "  re- 
plied Frank. 

"  Wai,  I  never  did  see  sich  keerless  fellers 
as  you  be,"  said  the  trapper.  "  You  get  wusser 
an'  wusser.  Much  you  don't  know  about  this 
bisness.  I  guess  you  had  better  stay  here  whar 
you're  safe." 

"  Wai,  wal ! "  said  old  Bob  Kelly,  who  was 
not  a  little  astonished  at  the  request  the  boys 
had  made,  "  they've  got  the  real  grit  in  'em, 
that's  a  fact,  if  they  are  green  as  punkins  in 
Injun  fightin'.  A  few  year  on  the  prairy 
would  make  'em  as  good  as  me  or  you,  Dick 
Lewis.  But  you'll  get  enough  of  Injuns  afore 
you  see  daylight  ag'in  youngsters.  So  you 
had  better  stay  here-" 

So  saying  he  shouldered  his  rifle,  and,  fol- 
lowed by  the  guards,  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
less. The  boys  reluctantly  returned  to  their 
wagon,  where  they  found  Uncle  James,  seated 


70  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

on  the  ground,  whistling  softly  to  himself,  and 
apparently  indifferent  as  to  the  course  the 
Indians  might  see  fit  to  adopt.  But  still  he 
had  not  neglected  to  make  preparations  to  re- 
ceive them,  for  his  rifle  stood  leaning  against 
one  of  the  wheels  of  the  wagon,  and  he  carried 
his  revolvers  in  his  belt.  The  boys  silently 
seated  themselves  on  the  ground  beside  him, 
and  awaited  the  issue  of  events  with  their  feel- 
ings worked  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excite- 
ment. The  fires  had  burned  low,  but  still 
there  was  light  sufficient  to  enable  them  to 
discover  the  emigrants  stretched  on  the  ground 
about  the  wagons,  talking  to  one  another  in 
whispers,  as  if  almost  afraid  to  break  the  still- 
ness that  brooded  over  the  camp,  and  which 
was  interrupted  only  by  the  barking  of  the 
prairie  wolves,  and  the  neighing  and  tramping 
of  the  horses.  Two  hours  were  passed  in  this 
way,  when  suddenly  the  sharp  report  of  a  rifle, 
accompanied  by  a  terrific  yell,  rang  out  on  the 
air,  causing  the  emigrants  to  grasp  their 
weapons  and  spring  to  their  feet  in  alarm. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  71 

For  an  instant  all  was  silent  again.  The  still- 
ness was  so  deep  that  Frank  thought  the  camp 
v>'as  suddenly  deserted.  Then  a  long  drawn 
out  whoop  arose  from  the  prairie,  followed  by  a 
chorus  of  yells  that  struck  terror  to  more  than 
one  heart  in  that  wagon  train.  Then  came  a 
clatter  of  horses'  hoofs;  the  yells  grew  louder 
and  louder;  and  the  boys  knew  that  the 
Indians  were  coming  toward  them.  The  emi- 
grants rushed  to  the  wagons,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment the  savages  swept  by.  The  boys  saw  a 
confused  mass  of  rapidly-moving  horsemen ; 
heard  the  most  terrific  yells,  the  report  of 
fire-arms,  and  the  struggles  of  the  frightened 
cattle  as  they  attempted  to  escape,  and  then  all 
was  over.  The  Indians  departed  as  rapidly  as 
they  had  come,  and  the  boys,  bewildered  by  the 
noise,  had  not  fired  a  shot.  On  the  contrary, 
they  stood  holding  their  rifles  in  their  hands, 
as  if  they  had  suddenly  forgotten  how  to  use 
them.  Uncle  James,  however,  was  not  con- 
fused. He  had  heard  the  war-whoop  before, 
and  as  he  came  out  from  behind  the  wagon, 


72  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

he  began  to  reload  one  of  his  revolvers,  remark- 
ing as  he  did  so : 

"  There  are  some  less  in  that  band,  I 
know.'' 

"  Did  you  shoot?  "  asked  Archie,  drawing  a 
long  breath  of  relief  to  know  that  the  danger 
was  past.  "  Why,  I  didn't  have  time  to  fire  a 
shot." 

"  That's  because  you  were  frightened,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Winters.  "  You  see  I  have  been  in 
skirmishes  like  this  before,  and  their  yells 
don't  make  me  nervous.  I  had  five  good  shots 
at  them,  and  I  don't  often  miss." 

"  I  say,  youngsters,  are  you  all  right?  "  ex- 
claimed Dick,  who  at  this  moment  came  up. 
"See  here!.  I've  got  two  fellers'  top-knots. 
Bless  you,  they  ain't  scalps,"  he  continued,  as 
the  boys  drew  back.  "  They're  only  the  feath- 
ers the  Injuns  wear  in  their  har.  I  don't  scalp 
Cheyennes,  'cause  I  don't  keer  'bout  'em.  I 
make  war  on  'em  'cause  it's  natur.  But  when 
I  knock  over  a  Comanche,  I  take  his  har  jest 
to  'member  ole  Bill  by.  But,  youngsters, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  73 

warn't  that  jolly!  I  haven't  heered  a  Injun 
yell  fur  more'n  a  year,  an'  it  makes  me  feel  to 
hum.  You  caK  take  these  feathers,  an'  when 
you  get  back  to  Lawrence,  tell  the  folks  thar 
that  the  Injuns  that  wore  'em  onct  attacked 
the  train  you  belonged  to." 

The  emigrants'  first  care,  after  having  sat- 
isfied themselves  that  the  Indians  had  gone, 
was  to  count  their  stock;  and  more  than  one 
had  to  mourn  the  loss  of  a  favorite  horse  or 
mule,  which  had  escaped  and  gone  off  with  the 
Indians.  Mr.  Winters,  however,  had  lost  noth- 
ing— the  trapper  having  tied  the  animals  so 
securely  that  escape  was  impossible.  Not  a 
person  in  the  train  was  injured — the  only 
damage  sustained  being  in  the  canvas  covers 
of  the  wagons,  which  were  riddled  with  bullets 
and  arrows. 

The  boys  were  still  far  from  feeling  safe, 
and  probably  would  not  have  gone  to  bed  that 
night  had  they  not  seen  the  trappers  spread- 
ing their  blankets  near  the  wagon.  This  re- 
assured them,  for  those  men  never  would  have 


74  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

thought  of  rest  if  there  had  been  the  least  prob- 
ability that  the  Indians  would  return.  So  the 
boys  took  their  beds  out  of  the  wagon  and 
placed  them  beside  those  of  Dick  and  his  com- 
panion, who  were  talking  over  the  events  of 
the  night. 

"  This  bisness  of  fightin'  Injuns,  young- 
sters," said  the  former,  "  is  one  that  ain't  larnt 
out  of  books,  nor  in  the  woods  about  Lawrence. 
If  you  had  a-been  with  us,  you  would  a  seed 
that.  Now,  when  I  fust  went  out  thar,  you 
couldn't  'a'  told  that  thar  war  a  red-skin  on 
the  prairy.  But  I  laid  my  ear  to  the  ground, 
an'  purty  quick  I  heerd  a  rumblin'  like,  an'  I 
knowed  the  noise  war  made  by  bosses.  Arter 
that,  I  heerd  a  rustlin'  in  the  grass,  an'  seed  a 
Injun  sneakin'  along,  easy  like,  t'wards  the 
camp.  So  I  drawed  up  my  ole  shootin'  iron, 
an'  done  the  bisness  fur  him,  an'  then  started 
fur  the  camp,  loadin'  my  rifle  as  I  ran.  In 
course  the  Injuns  seed  then  that  it  warn't  no 
use  to  go  a-foolin'  with  us,  so  they  all  set  up 
a  yell,  an'  here  they  come.  I  dodged  under  the 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  75 

wagon,  an'  as  they  went  by,  I  give  'em  another 
shot,  an'  seed  a  red-skin  go  off  dead." 

"  Go  off  dead !  "  repeated  Frank.  "  How 
could  he  go  off  when  he  was  dead?  " 

"  Why,"  said  the  trapper,  with  a  laugh,  in 
which  he  was  joined  by  old  Bob  Kelly,  "every 
one  of  them  Injuns  war  tied  fast  to  his  hoss, 
so  that  if  he  war  killed  he  wouldn't  fall  off; 
an',  in  course,  his  hoss  would  keep  on  with  the 
rest,  an'  carry  him  away.  I  seed  more'n  one 
Injun  go  off  dead  to-night,  an'  the  way  I  come 
to  get  them  feathers,  b'longin'  to  them  two 
chaps,  war,  that  somebody  had  shot  their 
hosses.  I  seed  'em  on  the  ground,  tryin'  to  cut 
themselves  loose  from  their  saddles,  so  I  run 
up  an'  settled  'em.  That  war  four  I  rubbed 
out.  Good-night,  youngsters.  You  needn't  be 
afraid,  'cause  they  won't  come  back  again  to- 
night." 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  he  placed  his  cap 
under  his  head  for  a  pillow,  re-arranged  his 
blanket,  and  was  soon  in  a  sound  sleep. 

During  the  next  two  weeks  nothing  occurred 


76  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

to  relieve  the  monotony  of  the  journey.  The 
train  took  up  its  line  of  march  at  daylight, 
halted  at  noon  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  shortly 
after  sunset  encamped  for  the  night.  The  fight 
with  the  Indians  had  not  driven  all  thoughts 
of  the  antelopes  out  of  the  boys'  minds.  And 
while  the  train  journeyed  along  the  road,  they 
scoured  the  prairie,  in  search  of  the  wished-for 
game.  The  appearance  of  the  "  sea  of  grass," 
which  stretched  away  on  all  sides,  as  far  as 
their  eyes  could  reach,  not  a  little  surprised 
them.  Instead  of  the  perfectly  level  plain  they 
had  expected  to  see,  the  surface  of  the  prairie 
was  broken  by  gentle  swells,  like  immense 
waves  of  the  ocean,  and  here  and  there — some- 
times two  or  three  days'  journey  apart — were 
small  patches  of  woods,  called  "  oak  openings." 

One  night  they  made  their  camp  in  sight  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  While  the  trapper  was 
cooking  their  supper,  he  said  to  the  boys,  who 
had  thrown  themselves  on  the  ground  near  the 
wagon : 

"  It  ain't  fur  from  here  that  me  an'  ole  Bill 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  77 

Lawson  lost  that  wagon  train.  I  never  travel 
along  here  that  I  don't  think  of  that  night,  an' 
I  sometimes  feel  my  cap  rise  on  my  head,  jest 
as  it  did  when  them  Injuns  come  pourin'  injo 
the  camp.  But  the  varlets  have  been  pushed 
back  further  an'  further,  an'  now  a  feller's  as 
safe  here  as  he  would  be  in  Fort  Laramie.  The 
ole  bar's  hole  ain't  more'n  fifty  mile  from  here, 
an'  if  your  uncle  don't  mind  the  ride,  I  should 
like  to  show  you  the  cave  that  has  so  often 
sarved  me  fur  a  hidin'-place." 

The  boys  looked  toward  Mr.  Winters,  who, 
having  frequently  heard  the  guide  speak  of 
the  "  ole  bar's  hole,"  felt  some  curiosity  to  see 
it.  So,  after  being  assured  by  both  the  trappers 
that  there  was  no  danger  to  be  apprehended, 
he  gave  his  consent,  remarking: 

"  We  are  in  no  hurry.  I  don't  suppose  there 
is  any  possibility  of  being  lost  so  long  as  we 
have  Dick  and  Bob  for  guides;  so  we  will  go 
there,  and  take  a  week's  rest  and  a  hunt." 

The  boys  were  delighted,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  the  train  resumed  its  journey,  the 


78  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

emigrants  were  not  a  little  surprised  to  see  Mr. 
Winters'  wagon  moving  off  by  itself. 

That  night,  when  our  travelers  encamped, 
they  were  thirty  miles  from  the  train,  and 
about  the  same  distance  from  the  "  ole  bar's 
hole."  The  mountains  were  plainly  visible, 
and  the  boys  could  scarcely  believe  that  they 
were  nearly  a  day's  journey  distant.  They 
were  certain  that  a  ride  of  an  hour  or  two 
would  bring  them  to  the  willows  that  skirted 
their  base. 

"  Tain't  the  fust  time  I've  seed  fellers  fooled 
'bout  sich  things/'  said  Dick.  "  Do  you  see 
that  'ar  high  peak?"  he  continued,  pointing 
to  a  single  mountain  that  rose  high  above  the 
others.  "  Wai,  thar's  whar  the  ole  bar's  hole 
is.  If  we  reach  it  afore  dark  to-morrer  night, 
I'll  agree  to  set  you  down  in  Sacramento  in 
two  weeks." 

The  boys  were  still  far  from  being  convinced, 
and  they  went  to  sleep  that  night  fully  believ- 
ing that  they  would  reach  the  mountains  by 
noon  the  next  day. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  79 


CHAPTER   VI. 

LOST  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 

THE  next  morning,  by  the  time  the  sun  had 
risen,  the  travelers  had  eaten  their  breakfast, 
and  were  again  on  the  move.  The  entire  party 
was  in  high  spirits.  The  trappers  laughed  and 
joked  with  each  other,  and  pointed  out  to  Mr. 
Winters  the  familiar  objects  that  met  their 
eye  on  every  side,  while  the  boys  galloped  on 
before,  and  in  a  few  moments  had  left  the 
wagon  far  behind.  Their  horses  were  in  ex- 
cellent trim,  and  bounded  along  over  the 
prairie  as  if  some  of  their  riders'  spirits  had 
been  infused  into  them. 

"  I  say,  Frank,"  said  Archie,  at  length,  sud- 
denly drawing  in  his  rein,  "  what  if  Dick  was 
mistaken  about  the  Indians  all  being  gone,  and 


8o  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

a  party  of  Comanclies  should  suddenly  pounce 
down  on  us?  Wouldn't  we  be  in  a  fix?  I  de- 
clare, I  see  an  Indian  now,"  he  added ;  and,  as 
he  spoke,  he  pointed  toward  an  object  that 
could  be  dimly  seen  moving  along  the  summit 
of  a  distant  swell. 

"  That's  something,  that's  a  fact,"  said 
Frank,  gazing  in  the  direction  indicated ;  "  but 
it  don't  look  like  that  Indian  we  saw  the  other 
day.  If  it  was  a  Comanche,  he  wouldn't  move 
about  and  show  himself  so  plainly.  There's 
another — and  another,"  he  continued,  as  sev- 
eral more  objects  came  over  the  brow  of  the 
hill.  "  Let  us  ride  up  a  little  nearer.  If  they 
are  Indians,  we  can  easily  reach  the  wagon 
before  they  can  overtake  us." 

"  Well,  come  on,"  said  Archie.  "  If  we 
should  get  into  a  fight  all  by  ourselves,  and 
come  safely  out  of  it,  it  would  be  something  to 
talk  about,  wouldn't  it?" 

The  boys  rode  cautiously  toward  the  objects, 
which  were  still  increasing  in  number,  holding 
themselves  in  readiness  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  81 

in  case  they  should  prove  to  be  Indians,  until 
they  had  gone  about  half  a  mile,  when  Frank 
suddenly  exclaimed: 

"They  are  antelopes!" 

"Are  they?"  asked  Archie,  excitedly. 
"  Let's  shoot  one  of  'em,"  and,  springing  from 
his  saddle,  he  began  to  unbuckle  his  halter  and 
hobble  his  horse,  as  he  had  seen  the  trapper  do 
on  a  former  occasion. 

Frank  followed  his  example,  and  then,  secur- 
ing their  rifles,  they  threw  themselves  on  their 
hands  and  knees,  and  began  to  crawl  toward 
the  game,  which  was  fully  a  mile  and  a  half 
distant.  But  that  was  no  obstacle  to  the 
boys  then.  They  would  willingly  have  gone 
twice  that  far  to  have  a  shot  at  an  antelope, 
if  for  nothing  more  than  to  show  the  trapper 
that  they  were  better  hunters  than  he  had  sup- 
posed. It  is  true  they  did  not  expect  to  suc- 
ceed, but  the  name  "  antelope  killers "  was 
well  worth  trying  for,  and  they  determined  to 
do  their  best.  They  crawled  along  slowly  and 
as  carefully  as  possible,  pausing  now  and  then 


82  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

to  look  over  the  grass  at  the  animals,  which,  to 
their  delight,  they  found  were  feeding  directly 
toward  them. 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  safe  to  go  much  further," 
said  Frank,  after  they  had  crawled  nearly  half 
the  distance  in  this  manner.  "  Let's  stop  and 
see  what  we  can  do." 

"  Well,"  said  Archie.  "  If  you  will  hold  up 
your  handkerchief  on  your  ramrod,  I'll  try  and 
shoot  one  of  them,  if  they  come  near  enough." 

Frank,  in  compliance  with  his  cousin's  sug- 
gestion, drew  his  ramrod  from  his  gun,  fas- 
tened his  handkerchief  to  it,  and,  throwing 
himself  upon  his  back,  carefully  raised  it  above 
the  grass.  While  in  this  position  he  could  not, 
of  course,  see  the  movements  of  the  game ;  but 
Archie  kept  vigilant  watch,  and  at  length 
whispered: 

"They  see  it!     They're  coining!" 

The  animals  had,  in  reality,  caught  sight  of 
the  handkerchief,  and,  after  regarding  it  for  a 
few  moments,  they  began  to  approach  it — a 
fine  large  buck  leading  the  way. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  83 

Now  the  boys  knew  that  the  hunt  began  in 
earnest.  The  least  awkward  movement  on 
their  part — the  exposure  of  the  smallest  por- 
tion of  their  bodies,  or  the  slightest  noise  in  the 
grass — might,  as  Archie  expressed  it,  "  knock 
the  whole  thing  in  the  head."  Frank  lay  per- 
fectly quiet,  watching  the  movements  of  his 
cousin ;  and  he  could  tell,  by  the  expression  of 
his  countenance,  pretty  near  what  the  game 
was  doing.  When  the  antelopes  stopped — 
which  they  did  every  few  feet — Archie  put  on 
an  exceedingly  long  face,  as  if  fearful  that  they 
were  about  to  turn  and  run;  and  when  they 
approached,  the  fact  would  be  indicated  by  a 
broad  grin  and  a  nervous  twitching  at  the  lock 
of  his  gun.  For  fully  half  an  hour — it  seemed 
much  longer  to  the  impatient  boys — they  re- 
mained in  their  place  of  concealment;  but  at 
length  their  patience  was  rewarded,  for  the 
game  was  within  easy  rifle  range.  In  an  in- 
stant Archie's  nervousness  all  vanished,  and 
Frank  almost  held  his  breath  when  he  saw  him 
slowly,  inch  by  inch,  raise  his  gun  to  his  shoul- 


84  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

der.  He  took  a  long,  steady  aim,  pulled  the 
trigger",  and  sprung  from  the  ground,  shouting : 

"  I've  got  him !     I've  got  him !  " 

Frank  was  on  his  feet  almost  as  soon  as  his 
cousin,  and,  to  his  delight,  saw  the  leader  of 
the  antelopes  struggling  on  the  ground,  while 
the  rest  of  the  herd  were  scampering  away  at 
the  top  of  their  speed. 

"What  will  Dick  and  Bob  say  now?*'  ex- 
claimed Archie,  who  skipped  about  as  though 
he  were  almost  beside  himself.  "  What  will 
they — hold  on — hold  on — shoot  him,  Frank !  " 
he  shouted.  "  We're  going  to  lose  him  after 
all." 

Archie's  shot  had  not  been  fatal.  The  buck 
was  only  disabled  for  a  moment,  and,  after  a 
few  struggles,  he  succeeded  in  regaining  his 
feet,  and  started  to  run.  Had  his  cousin  been 
as  excited  as  he  was,  they  certainly  would  have 
had  all  their  trouble  for  nothing,  for  Archie, 
instead  of  stopping  to  reload,  dropped  his  gun 
and  started  in  pursuit  of  the  wounded  animal, 
which — although  he  ran  but  slowly — was  fast 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  85 

leaving  him  behind,  when  Frank,  by  an  excel- 
lent shot,  again  brought  him  to  the  ground. 
This  time  the  wound  was  fatal ;  but  Archie,  to 
put  all  further  attempts  at  escape  out  of  the 
question,  ran  up  and  seized  the  buck  by  the 
horns. 

"  He's  done  for  now,"  said  Frank,  as  he  pro- 
ceeded to  reload  his  rifle;  "  I  shot  him  through 
the  head." 

"  I  see  you  did,"  replied  his  cousin,  still  re- 
taining his  hold  upon  the  antelope;  "but 
there's  no  knowing  what  he  might  do.  I 
wouldn't  trust  him."  And  it  was  not  until  he 
had  turned  the  deer  over  several  times,  and 
fully  satisfied  himself  that  he  had  ceased  to 
breathe,  that  Archie  released  him. 

"  What  will  Dick  and  Bob  say  now?  "  he 
continued,  as  Frank  came  up,  and  they  began 
to  examine  their  prize,  which  was  much  larger 
than  the  one  the  trapper  had  killed.  "  You 
know  they  said  we  couldn't  shoot  an  antelope. 
Now,  the  next  thing  is  to  get  him  back  to  the 
wagon.  He's  too  heavy  for  us  to  carry,  so  if 


£6  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

you'll  stay  here,  and  watch  him  and  keep  the 
wolves  off,  I'll  go  back  and  get  the  horses." 

Frank  agreed  to  this  arrangement,  and 
Archie,  after  he  had  found  and  reloaded  his 
gun,  started  off  after  the  horses.  He  was  gone 
almost  two  hours — so  long  that  Frank  began  to 
be  uneasy;  but  at  length  he  appeared,  riding 
post-haste  over  a  neighboring  swell,  mounted 
on  Sleepy  Sam,  and  leading  Pete  by  the  bridle. 
As  soon  as  he  came  within  speaking  distance, 
he  exclaimed,  with  blanched  cheeks : 

"  Frank,  we're  lost !  I  can't  see  the  wagon 
anywhere." 

"  Don't  be  uneasy,"  replied  his  cousin,  who, 
although  thoroughly  alarmed  by  this  announce- 
ment, appeared  to  be  perfectly  unconcerned. 
"  Don't  be  uneasy." 

"  But  I  haven't  seen  the  wagon  since  we 
left  it  this  morning,"  persisted  Archie.  "  I 
thought  it  was  close  behind  us.  I  tell  you 
we're  lost." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  guess  not,"  answered  Frank,  as 
he  lifted  the  antelope  from  the  ground  and 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  87 

placed  it  on  the  saddle  before  his  cousin. 
"  The  wagon  is  no  doubt  behind  some  of  these 
hills.  Besides,  Uncle  James  won't  be  long  in 
hunting  us  up." 

"  I  wouldn't  stay  alone  on  the  prairi«  to- 
night for  anything,"  said  Archie.  "  I  know  it 
wouldn't  be  the  first  time  I  have  camped  out, 
but  then  there  are  no  wild  Indians  in  the 
woods  about  Lawrence." 

Frank  had  by  this  time  mounted  his  horse, 
and  together  they  set  out  at  a  rapid  gallop  to 
find  the  wagon.  The  mountain  which  Dick 
had  pointed  out  the  night  before  was  plainly 
visible,  and  the  boys  determined  to  travel  to- 
ward it  with  all  possible  speed,  in  hopes  that 
they  would  overtake  their  friends  before  they 
halted  for  the  night.  Frank  thought  the 
wagon  could  not  be  far  off,  and  every  hill  they 
mounted  he  gazed  about  him  as  if  fully  expect- 
ing to  discover  it;  but,  after  riding  an  hour 
without  seeing  any  signs  of  it,  he  began  to  be 
a  good  deal  of  his  cousin's  opinion,  that  they 
were  lost.  But  he  made  no  remark,  for  he 


88  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

knew  that  a  good  deal  depended  upon  keeping 
up  Archie's  courage. 

"  We  have  not  been  gone  from  the  wagon 
three  hours,"  said  he,  "  and  they  haven't  had 
time  to  get  very  far  away  from  us.  \Ve'll  find 
them  behind  some  of  these  swells.  Perhaps 
we'll  be  in  time  to  give  them  a  piece  of  our 
antelope  for  dinner." 

Archie  made  no  reply,  for  he  derived  no  en- 
couragement from  this;  but  he  silently  fol- 
lowed his  cousin,  who  led  the  way  at  a  rapid 
gallop,  riding  over  this  swell,  and  turning 
round  that,  as  though  he  was  perfectly 
familiar  with  the  ground  over  which  they 
were  traveling.  For  two  long  hours  they  kept 
on  this  way,  almost  without  speaking,  each 
time  they  mounted  a  hill  straining  their  eyes 
in  every  direction,  in  the  hope  of  discovering 
the  wagon.  Sometimes  they  were  almost  cer- 
tain they  saw  its  white  cover  in  the  distance; 
but  upon  taking  a  second  look,  it  proved  to 
have  been  merely  a  creation  of  their  imagina- 
tion ;  and  Frank  began  to  be  discouraged.  To 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  89 

i 

add  to  their  discomfort,  the  heat  was  almost  in- 
tolerable, and  they  began  to  be  tortured  with 
thirst.  Their  animals  also  appeared  to  be  suf- 
fering, for  they  paid  less  attention  to  the  spur, 
and  were  constantly  jerking  at  the  reins,  and 
endeavoring  to  go  in  a  direction  almost  con- 
trary to  that  which  the  boys  desired.  The 
hours  seemed  lengthened  into  ages,  and  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  they  had  seen  no 
signs  of  the  wagon,  and  the  mountains  ap- 
peared to  be  as  far  off  as  ever. 

"  There's  no  use  talking,"  said  Archie,  at 
length,  reining  in  his  horse,  "  I  can't  stand  this 
any  longer,  I'm  so  thirsty." 

"But  what  else  can  we  do?"  asked  Frank, 
in  a  husky  voice,  for  his  tongue  was  so  parched 
that  he  could  scarcely  talk  plainly.  "  We 
can't  find  our  friends,  or  water  either,  by  stay- 
ing here.  We  must  go  on." 

As  he  spoke,  he  again  spurred  his  horse  into 
a  gallop,  Archie,  as  before,  following  after 
him,  now  and  then  looking  down  at  the  ante- 
lope, which  lay  across  his  saddle — and  which 


9o  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

lie  considered  to  be  the  cause  of  all  their  trou- 
ble— as  though  he  heartily  wished  him  safe 
among  the  others  of  the  herd.  Two  miles  more 
were  passed,  but  still  no  signs  of  water.  The 
idea  of  finding  the  wagon  had  now  given  way 
to  a  desire  to  discover  some  stream  where  they 
might  quench  their  thirst,  which  was  becom- 
ing almost  unbearable.  But  the  dry,  parched 
prairie  stretched  away  on  each  side  of  them, 
while  in  front  loomed  the  mountains,  appar- 
ently as  distant  as  when  they  started  in  the 
morning.  Their  horses  grew  more  and  more 
restive.  Upon  applying  the  spur,  they  would 
gallop  for  a  few  yards,  and  then  settle  down 
into  a  slow  walk,  turning  their  heads  and 
pulling  at  the  reins  as  if  anxious  to  go  in  a 
contrary  direction.  This  set  Frank  to  think- 
ing. He  had  often  read  of  the  remarkable 
sagacity  sometimes  displayed  by  the  horse — 
how  the  animal  had  been  known  to  carry  his 
lost  rider  safely  into  the  midst  of  his  friends — 
and,  turning  to  his  cousin,  he  exclaimed : 
"  Archie,  I'm  going  to  let  Pete  take  his  own 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  91 

course.  Both  the  horses  want  to  go  back,  so 
let's  see  where  they  will  take  us  to.  We  can't 
be  in  a  much  worse  fix  than  we  are  now." 

As  he  spoke,  he  threw  the  reins  on  his 
horse's  neck,  and  the  animal,  finding  himself 
at  liberty,  at  once  turned,  and,  pricking  up  his 
ears,  galloped  off  exactly  at  right  angles  with 
the  course  they  had  been  pursuing.  Archie, 
too  dispirited  to  raise  any  objections,  followed 
his  cousin's  example,  and  the  old  buffalo 
hunter,  which,  during  the  last  two  hours,  had 
traveled  with  his  head  down,  as  if  scarcely 
able  to  take  another  step,  snuffed  the  air  and 
bounded  off  at  a  rapid  pace.  For  an  hour  the 
animals  tore  along  at  a  tremendous  rate;  but 

• 

discovering  no  signs  of  the  wagon,  Frank  was 
rapidly  losing  faith  in  the  sagacity  of  his 
horse,  when,  as  they  came  suddenly  around  the 
base  of  a  swell,  they  found  before  them  a 
long  line  of  willows.  Toward  this  the  animals 
made  their  way  with  increased  speed,  carrying 
their  riders  through  the  trees  into  a  stream 
of  clear,  running  water. 


92  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  TRAPPER'S  REMINISCENCE. 

THE  horses  did  not  stop  on  the  bank,  but,  in 
spite  of  the  desperate  efforts  of  the  boys,  kept 
on,  until  the  water  reached  half  way  to  their 
backs.  The  old  buffalo  hunter,  not  satisfied 
with  this,  persisted  in  lying  down ;  and  Archie 
and  the  antelope  were  deposited  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  stream.  Under  any  other  circum- 
stances, the  young  hunter  would  have  been 
angry;  but,  as  it  was,  the  cool  bath  was  most 
refreshing  after  his  long  ride  over  the  dry 
prairie,  under  the  hot,  scorching  sun;  so 
seizing  the  antelope,  he  dragged  him  to  the 
shore,  leaving  his  horse  to  take  care  of  him- 
self. 

Thirsty  as  the  boys  were,  they  still  retained 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  93 

their  presence  of  mind;  instead  of  endanger- 
ing his  life  by  drinking  freely  of  the  water, 
Archie  contented  himself  with  repeatedly 
bathing  his  head,  while  Frank,  who  was  still 
in  his  saddle,  reached  down  and  scooped  up  a 
few  drops  in  his  hand. 

"  I  say,  Frank,  isn't  this  glorious? "  said 
Archie  at  length,  as  he  divested  himself  of  his 
coat,  which  he  hung  upon  a  limb  to  dry.  "  But 
it's  lucky  that  my  ammunition  is  water-proof. 
If  you  had  been  in  my  fix,  you  wouldn't  be  able 
to  do  much  more  shooting  until  we  got  back 
to  our  wagon.  I  declare,  it's  getting  dark. 
AVhere  do  you  suppose  that  wagon  is?  If  we 
don't  find  it  inside  of  fifteen  minutes,  we  shall 
have  to  camp." 

"  Let's  stay  here,"  said  Frank,  as  he  rode 
his  horse  out  of  the  water,  and  fastened  him 
to  a  tree.  "  We  must  stay  somewhere  all 
night,  and  this  is  as  good  a  camping-ground  as 
we  can  find." 

"  If  Dick  or  Bob  was  here,"  said  Archie, 
"  I  wouldn't  mind  it ;  but  I  don't  like  the  idea 


94  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

of  our  staying  hero  alone.  This  is  the  worst 
scrape  I  was  ever  in;  but  if  I  once  get  along- 
side of  that  wagon  again,  I'll  stay  there.'' 

"  Oh,  you've  been  in  worse  scrapes  than 
this,"  said  Frank,  who  saw  that  his  cousin  was 
losing  heart  again. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  when  and  where?  "  said 
Archie,  looking  up  in  astonishment. 

"  Why,  you  were  in  a  much  more  dangerous 
situation  while  you  were  hanging  by  that  limb, 
fifty  feet  from  the  ground,  when  you  were 
after  that  'coon  that  led  you  such  a  long 
chase." 

"  I  can't  see  it,"  replied  Archie.  "  I  knew 
that  if  I  got  down  safe,  I  would  be  among 
friends,  and  if  I  had  to  camp  in  the  woods 
there  would  be  no  Comanches  or  grizzly  bears 
waiting  for  a  chance  to  jump  down  on  me.  I 
say,  Frank,  there  may  be  grizzly  bears  about 
here,"  and  Archie  peered  through  the  trees, 
reaching  rather  hurriedly  for  his  gun,  as  if 
fully  expecting  to  see  one  of  those  ferocious 
animals  advancing  upon  him.  "  But  what  are 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  95 

you  about?  "  he  continued,  as  be  saw  Frank  re- 
moving the  saddle  from  his  horse. 

"  I'm  getting  ready  to  camp,"  replied  Frank, 
coolly. 

Archie  at  first  strongly  objected  to  this,  but 
Frank  finally  carried  the  day,  by  assuring  him 
that  is  was  the  much  better  plan  to  "  take  mat- 
ters easy,"  and  wait  for  daylight,  when  they 
would  again  set  out.  Besides,  if  they  traveled 
in  the  dark,  they  might  go  miles  out  of  their 
way.  Archie,  although  not  convinced,  finally 
agreed  to  his  cousin's  proposition,  remarking: 

"If  you  were  in  the  fourth  story  of  a  burn- 
ing house,  I  wonder  if  you  wouldn't  talk  of 
taking  matters  easy?'- 

It  was  settled  then  that  they  should  remain 
where  they  were  for  the  night,  and  they  began 
to  make  preparations  accordingly.  Archie's 
horse  was  relieved  of  the  saddle,  and,  after 
both  the  animals  had  been  led  on  to  the 
prairie,  they  were  hobbled  and  left  to  graze. 
Frank  then  began  to  skin  and  dress  the  buck, 
while  Archie  gathered  a  supply  of  wood,  and 


96  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

kindled  a  fire.  In  half  an  hour  several  slices 
of  venison  were  broiling  on  the  coals,  and  the 
boys  were  lying  before  the  fire,  talking  over  the 
events  of  the  day,  and  wondering  what  Dick 
and  Bob  would  say  when  they  learned  that 
their  "  youngsters "  had  killed  an  antelope, 
when  they  were  startled  by  a  well-known  bark, 
and  the  next  moment  Useless  came  bounding 
through  the  trees  into  the  very  center  of  the 
camp,  where  he  frisked  and  jumped  about  with 
every  demonstration  of  joy.  The  boys  had 
scarcely  recovered  from  their  alarm,  when 
they  heard  a  familiar  voice  exclaim : 

"Bar  an'  buffaler!  You  keerless  fellers!" 
and  the  trapper  came  through  the  willows 
with  long,  impatient  strides. 

The  boys  were  always  glad  to  see  Dick,  but 
words  are  too  feeble  to  express  the  joy  they 
felt  at  his  sudden  and  wholly  unexpected  ap- 
pearance. For  a  moment  they  seemed  to  have 
lost  the  power  of  speech. 

The  trapper  glanced  hastily  from  one  to  the 
other,  took  in  at  a  glance  the  preparations  for 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  97 

the  night,  and,  dropping  the  butt  of  his  rifle 
heavily  to  the  ground,  again  ejaculated: 

"  You  keerless  fellers !  " 

"What's  the  matter,  Dick?"  asked  Archie, 
whose  spirits  were  now  as  exalted  as  they  had 
before  been  depressed.  "  We're  all  right.  Sit 
down  and  have  some  supper." 

"  Youngsters,"  said  the  trapper,  seating 
himself  on  the  ground,  and  depositing  his  rifle 
beside  him,  "  I  jest  knowed  I  would  find  you 
all  right.  Now,  tell  me  whar  have  you  been, 
an'  what  a  doin'?" 

"Do  you  see  that?"  exclaimed  Archie, 
jumping  up  and  pointing  to  the  remains  of  the 
antelope,  which  Frank  had  hung  up  on  a  tree. 
"  Do  you  see  it?  You  said  we  couldn't  kill  a 
prong-horn,  but  we've  done  it." 

The  boys  then  proceeded  to  recount  their 
adventures,  telling  the  trapper  how  they  had 
killed  the  antelope,  of  their  long  ride  under 
the  scorching  sun,  and  how  at  last  their 
horses  had  brought  them  to  the  water — to  all 
of  which  the  trapper  listened  with  amazement, 


98  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

and  feelings  of  admiration  that  he  could  not 
disguise. 

"  Wai,"  said  he,  when  they  had  concluded, 
"  I  won't  tell  you  to  try  it  over  ag'in,  'cause 
you  can't  allers  be  so  lucky." 

"What  did  uncle  say?"  inquired  Archie, 
who  was  rather  apprehensive  of  a  "  lecture." 

"  Oh,  he  knowed  as  how  thar  war  no  Injuns 
to  massacre  you,  an'  when  we  camped  fur 
noon,  I  heered  him  say,  '  I  wonder  what  the 
boys  have  got  fur  dinner? '  I  knowed  me  and 
Useless  could  easy  find  you.  That  ar  dog 
knowed  jest  as  well  that  I  war  arter  you  as  I 
did  myself." 

"  Well,"  said  Frank,  "  whenever  you  get 
ready,  we'll  go  back  to  the  camp." 

"  To  camp !  "  repeated  the  trapper.  "  Hain't 
you  rid  fur  enough  yet?  Can  you  stand 
'  twenty  miles  more  to-night?" 

"  Twenty  miles ! "  echoed  both  the  boys,  in 
surprise. 

"  Sartin !  You're  further  away  from  the  ole 
bar's  hole  now  than  you  were  last  night." 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  99 

The  young  hunters  were  astonished.  Al- 
though they  had  had  the  Rocky  Mountains  for 
a  guide-post,  they  had  been  completely  turned 
round,  and  had  actually  traveled  ten  miles 
back  toward  St.  Joseph. 

"  That's  what  comes  of  not  knowin*  nothin' 
'bout  the  prairy !  "  continued  the  trapper,  help- 
ing himself  to  a  piece  of  the  venison.  "  But 
we'll  stay  h0re  to-night,  an'  strike  fur  camp  in 
the  mornin'." 

The  boys  were  very  well  satisfied  with  this 
arrangement,,  for  their  long  ride  had  wearied 
them,  and  Archie  was  willing  to  brave  grizzly 
bears,  so  long  as  he  was  in  Dick's  company. 

After  supper — which  consisted  of  venison, 
without  bread  or  coffee — the  trapper  lighted 
his  pipe  with  a  brand  from  the  fire,  and,  set- 
tling back  on  his  elbow,  said: 

"  I've  seed  the  time,  youngsters,  when  it 
wouldn't  a  been  healthy  fur  you  two  fellers 
to  be  out  here  alone.  I've  seed  that  prairy 
a'most  black  with  Comanches,  an'  have  heered 
'em  yellin'  among  these  ere  very  willows.  If 


ioo  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

you  had  been  settin'  whar  you  are  now  'bout 
fifteen  year  ago,  you  would  have  seed  me 
goin"  through  these  trees,  an'  swimmin'  that 
ar  creek,  with  a  hul  tribe  of  yellin'  an' 
screechin'  red-skins  clost  to  my  heels.  I 
showed  your  uncle,  this  mornin',  the  very  place 
whar  I  onct  run  the  gauntlet  of  more'n  a  hun- 
dred Comanches.  I  tell  you,  youngsters,  I 
know  every  foot  of  this  ground.  Many  a  time 
me  an'  poor  ole  Bill  Lawson  have  skrimmaged 
with  the  Injuns  through  here,  when  it  war 
inore'n  a  feller's  har  war  wuth  to  come  to  this 
creek  arter  a  drink  o'  water.  But  I  told  you 
'bout  runnin'  the  gauntlet.  The  way  it  hap- 
pened war  this: 

"  'Bout  fifteen  year  ago,  me  an'  ole  Bill 
Lawson  war  trappin'  among  the  mountains, 
twenty-five  miles  from  the  ole  bar's  hole.  We, 
in  course,  had  fine  sport,  'cause  me  an'  ole  Bill 
allers  knowed  whar  to  go  to  find  the  best  trap- 
pin'  grounds;  an',  by  the  time  spring  opened, 
we  had  as  much  spelter  as  we  could  tote  away 
on  our  backs.  It  war  gettin'  purty  nigh  time 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  101 

fur  the  Comanches  to  come  round  on  their 
spring  hunt,  an'  we  began  to  talk  of  leavin'; 
but  thar  war  plenty  of  beaver  left  in  the  valley, 
an'  we  didn't  like  to  go  so  long  as  thar  war 
any  game  to  trap,  so  we  kept  puttin'  it  off,  an* 
when  at  last  we  did  start,  it  war  too  late  to  get 
off  with  our  plunder. 

"  One  mornin',  jest  at  daylight,  while  I  war 
in  front  of  the  shantee  cookin'  my  breakfast, 
ole  Bill  come  in  from  'tendin'  to  his  traps,  an' 
said: 

" '  Dick,  the  valley's  chuck  full  o'  red-skins. 
I  jest  seed  more  sign  down  by  the  creek  than 
I  ever  seed  afore  'bout  this  place,  an'  that's 
sayin'  a  good  deal.  We  had  better  shoulder 
our  spelter  an'  be  off  to  onct.' 

"  I  didn't  stop  to  think  any  more  'bout 
breakfast  jest  then,  but  I  ran  into  the  shantee, 
grabbed  my  furs,  which  I  allers  kept  tied  up 
ready  for  a  move,  an'  me  an'  ole  Bill  started 
out.  The  Injuns  must  have  come  in  durin' 
the  night,  'cause  the  day  afore  thar  warn't  a 
bit  of  sign  to  be  seed  fur  ten  miles  'round  the 


IO2  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

valley.  But  we  didn't  stop  then  to  think  ho\v 
or  when  they  got  in,  but  how  should  we  get 
out.  It  warn't  no  easy  thing  to  do,  youngsters 
— to  go  through  them  mountains,  swarmin' 
with  red-skins.  They  don't  walk  through  the 
woods  like  a  feller  does  when  he's  squirrel 
huntin',  but  they  go  sneakin'  round,  an' 
listenin',  an'  peepin' ;  an'  if  a  chap  don't  under- 
stand their  natur,  he'd  better  not  go  among 
'em. 

"  Wai,  ole  Bill  led  the  way,  sometimes 
a'most  on  his  knees,  his  rifle  in  his  hand,  an' 
his  bundle  of  furs  on  his  shoulder,  I  followin' 
clost  at  his  heels — both  of  us  keepin'  our  eyes 
open,  an'  stoppin'  now  an'  then  to  listen.  We 
had  made  'bout  a  mile  up  the  mountain  in  this 
way,  when,  all  to  onct,  ole  Bill  stopped  and 
looked  straight  before  him.  I  stopped,  too, 
an'  seed  three  big  Comanches  comin'  along 
easy  like,  lookin'  at  the  ground,  examinin'  the 
bushes,  an'  whisperin'  to  each  other.  They 
Lad  found  a  trail  that  either  me  or  ole  Bill  had 
made  the  day  afore,  an'  war  tryin'  to  foller  it 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  103 

up.  But  me  an'  the  ole  man  warn't  the  ones 
to  leave  a  path  that  could  be  follered  easy 
when  we  thought  thar  war  red-skins  'round; 
an'  I  guess  it  bothered  them  rascals  some  to 
tell  which  way  we  had  gone,  an'  how  many 
thar  war  of  us.  But  they  did  foller  it  up 
slowly,  an'  while  we  war  lookin'  at  'em  they 
were  jined  by  another  Injun,  who  seemed  to  be 
a  chief,  for  he  whispered  a  few  orders,  an'  two 
of  the  Comanches  made  off.  They  had  been 
sent  to  rouse  the  camp,  an'  we  knowed  that  we 
couldn't  get  away  from  that  valley  any  too 
fast.  The  red-skins  war  n't  more'n  a  hundred 
yards  from  us,  an'  we  knowed  it  would  take 
mighty  keerful  movin'  to  get  away  from  them 
without  bein'  diskivered.  But  it  war  life  or 
death  with  us,  an'  we  began  to  crawl  slowly 
through  the  bushes.  A  greenhorn  couldn't 
have  heered  a  leaf  rustle  if  he  hadn't  been  two 
foot  from  us;  but  thar's  a  heap  of  difference 
atween  a  greenhorn's  ears  an'  them  that  a 
Injun  carries.  But  they  didn't  hear  us,  fur  as 
long  as  we  war  in  sight  we  seed  them  still  fol- 


JO4  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

lerin'  up  the  ole  trail;  an'  as  soon  as  we 
thought  we  had  got  out  of  hearin'  of  them,  we 
jumped  to  our  feet  an'  run  like  a  pair  of  quar- 
ter bosses  We  didn't  make  no  more  noise 
than  we  could  help,  but  we  hadn't  gone  fur 
afore  the  mountains  echoed  with  the  war- 
whoop,  an'  a  couple  of  arrers  whizzed  by  our 
heads.  The  Injuns  had  diskivered  us.  In 
course,  we  both  dropped  like  a  flash  of 
lightnin',  an',  while  I  war  lookin'  round  to 
find  the  varlets,  ole  Bill  struck  out  his  hand, 
say  in' : 

" '  This  is  a  bad  scrape,  Dick,  an'  mebbe  me 
an'  you  have  done  our  last  trappin'  together. 
But  we  mustn't  get  ketched  if  we  can  help  it, 
'cause  we  couldn't  look  fur  nothin'  but  the 
stake.' 

"  While  the  ole  man  war  speakin',  I  seed  one 
of  the  rascals  that  had  shot  at  us  peepin'  out 
from  behind  a  log.  He  didn't  show  more'n 
two  inches  of  his  head,  but  that  war  enough, 
an'  I  reckon  that  red-skin  lay  thar  till  his 
friends  toted  him  off.  Jest  the  minit  I  fired, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  105 

ole  Bill  throwed  down  his  furs,  jumped  to  his 
feet,  an'  run,  an'  I  done  the  same,  although  I 
did  hate  to  leave  that  spelter  that  I  had 
worked  so  hard  fur  all  winter.  But,  in  course, 
thar  war  no  help  fur  it.  Thar  war  plenty 
more  beaver  in  the  mountains,  an',  if  I  got  safe 
off,  I  knowed  whar  to  go  to  find  'em;  but  if  I 
lost  my  scalp,  I  couldn't  get  another.  So,  as 
I  war  say  in',  I  put  arter  the  ole  man,  an'  jest 
then  I  heered  something  'sides  a  arrer  sing  by 
my  head.  It  war  a  bullet,  an'  the  chap  that 
sent  it  warn't  sich  a  bad  shot  neither;  fur,  if 
I  had  the  ole  'coon-skin  cap  I  wore  then,  I 
could  show  you  whar  a  piece  of  it  war  cut  out. 
I  didn't  stop  to  look  fur  the  feller,  howsom- 
ever,  but  kept  on  arter  ole  Bill,  loadin'  my  rifle 
as  I  ran.  The  woods  war  so  thick  we  couldn't 
keep  clost  together,  an'  I  soon  lost  sight  of 
him ;  but  that  didn't  skeer  me,  fur  I  knowed  he 
could  take  keer  of  his  own  bacon.  As  fur  my- 
self, I  never  yet  seed  the  Injun,  or  white  man 
either,  that  could  ketch  me,  if  I  onct  got  a 
leetle  start  of  him ;  an'  if  all  the  Injuns  in  the 


io6  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

mountains  war  behind  me,  I  could  laugh  at 
'em.  But  thar  war  some  in  front  of  me,  as  I 
found  out  afore  I  had  gone  fur.  I  had  jest  got 
my  rifle  loaded,  an'  war  settlin'  down  to  my 
work — makin'  purty  good  time,  I  reckon,  the 
Injuns  behind  me  yellin'  an'  hootin'  all  the 
while — when,  all  to  onct,  up  jumped  about  a 
dozen  more  of  the  rascals. 

"  I  didn't  stop  to  ax  no  questions,  but  sent 
the  nighest  of  'em  down  in  a  hurry;  but  in  a 
minit  arterward  I  war  down,  too;  an'  when  I 
war  pulled  to  my  pins  ag'in,  I  war  a  pris'ner, 
my  hands  bein'  bound  behind  me  with  hickory 
bark.  It  warn't  a  pleasant  sight  I  seed,  young- 
sters, as  I  stood  thar,  lookin'  at  them  scowl  in' 
Injuns.  At  that  day  thar  war  few  of  them  Co- 
manches  that  didn't  know  me  an'  ole  Bill,  an' 
when  they  seed  who  I  war,  they  all  set  up  a 
yell,  an'  began  dancin'  'round  me  like  mad, 
shakin'  their  tomahawks,  an'  pintin'  their  rifles 
an'  arrers  at  me;  an'  one  feller  ketched  me  by 
the  har,  an'  passed  his  knife  'round  my  head, 
as  though  he  had  half  a  notion  to  scalp  me  to 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  107 

onct.  They  kept  goin'  on  in  this  way  until  the 
Injuns  in  that  part  of  the  woods  had  come  up 
to  see  what 'the  fuss  war  'bout;  an'  they,  too, 
had  to  go  through  the  same  motions.  All  to 
onct  they  happened  to  think  of  ole  Bill.  The 
chief  set  up  a  shout,  an'  all  but  four  of  the 
Injuns  put  off  on  his  trail.  It  showed  me, 
plain  enough,  that  the  rascals  war  afraid  of 
me,  when  they  left  so  many  to  guard  me.  But 
no  four  of  them  Comanches  would  have 
stopped  me  from  gettin'  away  if  I  could  have 
got  my  hands  free.  I  tell  you,  I  done  my  best, 
makiu'  that  tough  hickory  bark  crack  an'  snap, 
but  it  war  no  go— I  was  fast.  As  soon  as  the 
others  war  out  of  sight,  one  big  feller  ketched 
me  by  the  har,  an'  begun  to  pull  me  t'wards 
the  camp. 

"  He  didn't  help  me  along  very  easy,  but 
dragged  me  over  logs  an'  through  bushes,  as 
if  he  meant  to  pull  my  head  off,  while  the  other 
fellers,  findin'  nothin'  else  to  do,  follered  be- 
hind with  switches,  that  cut  through  my  old 
huntm'-shirt  like  a  knife.  At  last,  arter  they 


io8  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Lad  got  me  purty  well  thrashed,  we  reached 
the  camp,  which  war  jest  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains — I'll  show  you  the  place  in  the 
mornin' — an'  here  they  stood  me  up  ag'in  a 
post.  Then  I  ketched  it  from  everybody — 
men,  women,  an'  young  ones.  The  most  of  the 
braves  war  still  out  arter  the  old  man,  an'  I 
could  easy  tell  by  the  way  they  whooped  an' 
yelled  that  they  hadn't  ketched  him.  I 
knowed  they  wouldn't  get  him,  neither,  unless 
they  surrounded  him  like  they  did  me. 

"  Wai,  arter  tormentin'  me  fur  a  long  time, 
an'  findin'  that  I  didn't  keer  fur  'em,  the  In- 
juns finally  let  me  alone;  an'  one  ole  dried-up 
squaw  brought  me  a  piece  of  buffaler  meat. 
They  wouldn't  untie  my  hands,  but  that  ole 
woman  sot  thar  on  the  ground,  an'  fed  me  like 
I  war  a  baby.  I  eat  a  heap  of  that  meat,  'cause 
I  war  hungry,  an'  if  I  got  a  chance  to  have  a 
race  with  the  varlets,  I  didn't  want  to  run  on 
an  empty  stomach;  'sides  I  might  have  to  go 
without  eatin'  fur  two  or  three  days  afore  I 
could  find  ole  Bill.  Jest  afore  dark  the  braves 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  109 

began  to  come  in,  one  arter  the  other.  They 
hadn't  ketched  the  ole  man,  an'  I  could  see,  by 
the  way  they  scowled  at  me,  that  I  would  have 
to  stand  punishment  for  his  deeds,  an'  my  own 
into  the  bargain.  I  could  have  yelled,  when  I 
knowed  the  ole  feller  war  safe,  an'  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  if  the  Injuns  would  only  give  me 
half  a  chance,  I'd  soon  be  with  him  ag'in. 

"  Wai,  when  the  chiefs  come  in,  I  war  tied 
fast  to  the  post,  and  left  thar.  They  didn't  try 
to  skeer  me  any  more,  'cause  they  seed  it  war 
no  use,  an'  'sides,  they  wanted  to  save  all  their 
spite  fur  the  mornin',  fur  it  war  too  late  to  be- 
gin business  that  night.  I  war  fast  enough — 
as  fast  as  if  I  had  been  wrapped  up  in  chains 
— but  them  Injuns  war  afraid  to  trust  me. 
they  actooally  kept  half  a  dozen  of  their 
braves  watchin'  me,  from  the  time  it  began  to 
grow  dark  till  daylight  the  next  mornin'.  I 
didn't  sleep  very  easy,  fur  I  war  stand! n'  ag'in 
that  post,  an'  the  bark  they  had  tied  me  with 
war  drawed  so  tight  that  it  cut  into  my  arms; 
but  I  made  out  to  git  a  nap  or  two,  an'  when 


no  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

mornin'  come,  an'  I  had  eat  another  big  chunk 
of  that  buffaler  meat,  I  war  ready  fur  'em  to 
begin. 

"  As  soon  as  the  sun  war  up,  the  chief  called 
a  council.  It  didn't  take  'em  long  to  say  what 
should  be  done  with  me,  fur  sooner  that  I  had 
thought  fur,  one  of  the  chiefs  set  up  a  yelp, 
which  war  answered  by  the  hul  tribe,  an'  men, 
women,  an'  children  began  form  in'  themselves 
into  two  lines,  with  whips,  clubs,  tomahawks, 
or  whatever  else  they  could  ketch  hold  of;  an' 
two  fellers  come  up  to  set  me  free.  I  war  to 
run  the  gauntlet.  I  tell  you,  youngsters,  if 
thar  is  anything  that  will  make  the  bar  rise  on 
a  feller's  head,  it  is  fur  him  to  stand  an'  look 
atween  two  lines  sich  as  I  saw  that  mornin'. 
It  warn't  the  fust  time  I  had  been  in  jest  sich 
scrapes,  an'  I  knowed,  too,  that  the  Injuns 
didn't  mean  to  kill  me  then — they  wanted  to 
save  me  for  the  stake — but  somehow  I  couldn't 
help  feelin'  shaky.  I  didn't  let  the  Injuns 
see  it,  howsomever,  but  tightened  my  belt, 
stretched  my  arms,  an',  walkin'  out  in  front 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  in 

of  the  lines,  waited  fur  the  word  to  start.  The 
head  of  the  line  war  t'wards  the  camp,  an'  at 
the  foot,  which  war  t'wards  this  creek,  stood 
five  or  six  big  fellers,  waitin'  to  ketch  me  when 
I  come  out. 

"  Wai,  it  didn't  take  me  long  to  see  how  the 
land  lay,  an'  when  the  chief  yelled  to  let  me 
know  that  the  time  had  come,  I  started.  The 
way  I  traveled  through  'em  lines  war  a  thing 
fur  'em  Comanches  to  look  at.  I  got  plenty  of 
clips  as  I  passed,  but  this  war  the  only  one 
that  hurt  me." 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  he  bared  his  brawny 
shoulder,  and  showed  the  boys  a  long,  ragged 
scar.  The  wound  must  have  been  a  most 
severe  one. 

"  That  one,"  continued  Dick,  "  war  made  by 
a  tomahawk.  It  didn't  hinder  my  runnin', 
howsomever,  an'  I  warn't  half  a  minit  comin' 
to  the  end  of  'em  lines.  But  when  I  got  thar 
I  didn't  stop.  The  Injuns  that  war  waitin' 
thar,  tried  to  ketch  me,  but  I  passed  them  like 
a  streak  of  lightnin',  an'  drawed  a  bee-line  fur 


ii2  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

this  creek.  In  course  the  hul  camp  war  arter 
me  at  onct ;  but  I  knowed  that  I  war  safe,  fur 
all  the  Injuns  war  behind  me,  an'  I  wouldn't 
have  been  afraid  to  run  a  race  with  a  hoss.  I 
didn't  do  as  well  as  I  had  done  afore,  nor  nigh 
as  well  as  I  could  do  now,  fur  I  war  stiff  an' 
lame  from  bein'  tied  up  so  long;  but  I  run 
plenty  fast  enough  to  git  away.  As  I  told  you, 
I  run  through  these  willows,  swam  the  creek 
—which  war  wide  an'  deep  then,  on  'count  of 
the  snow  an'  ice  meltin' — then  tuk  to  the 
mountains,  an'  started  to  make  a  circle  round 
to  the  ole  bar's  hole.  I  traveled  in  every  little 
stream  I  could  find ;  walked  on  logs,  an'  on  the 
second  day,  found  ole  Bill.  The  ole  feller  had 
been  mighty  down-hearted  since  I  war  ketched 
— fur  the  yells  of  the  Injuns  plainly  told  him 
what  had  become  of  me — an'  had  never  ex- 
pected to  take  me  by  the  hand  ag'in.  But, 
when  he  seed  me  safe  an'  sound,  he  sot 
right  down  on  the  ground  an'  cried  like  a 
child. 

"  Wai,  we  lay  'round  the  ole  bar's  hole  till 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  113 

the  Injuns  had  gone,  an'  then  set  out  fur  the 
fort.  We  war  on  foot,  an'  had  but  one  rifle 
ntween  us,  but  we  got  through  all  right,  an' 
in  less'n  a  month,  war  on  our  way  to  the  moun- 
tains ag'in." 


ii4  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  "  OLE  BAR>S  HOLE." 

NEXT  morning,  after  a  hasty  breakfast,  the 
boys  saddled  their  horses,  and,  led  by  the  trap- 
per, set  out  to  find  the  wagon.  Now  it  was 
that  the  latter  showed  the  young  hunters  his 
extraordinary  "  travelin'  qualities,"  as  he  ex- 
pressed it ;  for  as  soon  as  the  boys  were  in  their 
saddles,  he  shouldered  his  rifle  and  started  off, 
at  a  rapid  pace,  which  he  did  not  slacken  at  all 
until  they  arrived  on  the  banks  of  a  small 
stream,  where  they  stopped  to  quench  their 
thirst. 

"  Now,  youngsters,"  said  the  trapper,  seat- 
ing himself  on  the  ground,  and  wiping  his 
forehead  with  his  coat  sleeve,  "  There's  the 
place.  The  Comanche's  camp  war  pitched  jest 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  115 

in  the  edge  of  them  ar'  willows,  an'  right  where 
you  see  them  bushes  war  where  I  stood  afore  I 
started  to  run  the  gauntlet.  The  chief's  wig- 
v.r.m  stood  thar  then.  I  tell  you,  it  warn't 
healthy  fur  a  feller  to  go  foolin'  'round  here 
them  days." 

The  boys  gazed  long  and  earnestly  at  every 
object  the  trapper  pointed  out,  and  listened  to 
his  narration  of  the  various  incidents  that  had 
transpired  during  his  captivity,  until  they  al- 
most fancied  they  could  see  the  prairie  covered 
with  painted  savages,  and  their  guide,  in  the 
midst  of  his  foes,  awaiting  the  signal  to  begin 
his  race  for  life.  Dick,  himself,  was  no  less  in- 
terested, for  he  sat  for  a  long  time  feasting  his 
eyes  on  every  familiar  object;  now  and  then 
casting  suspicious  glances  toward  the  distant 
willows,  as  if  he  almost  expected  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  a  hostile  warrior,  or  hear  the  war- 
whoop  which  had  so  often  awoke  the  echoes  of 
those  very  mountains. 

"  Wai,  youngsters,"  said  he,  at  length,  "  let's 
be  movin'!  I  never  expected  to  see  the  time 


n6  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

when  I  could  travel  over  these  ere  prairies 
without  bein'  in  danger  of  havin'  my  bar 
•  raised ;  an'  if  you  live  to  be  as  old  as  I  am, 
you'll  see  the  day  that  'em  city  chaps  will  ride 
through  here  on  'em  steam  railroads;  an'  if 
they  see  this  place,  they'll  never  dream  that 
such  things  as  I  have  told  you  about  ever  hap- 
pened here." 

The  travelers  again  set  out,  Dick  leading  the 
way,  at  a  still  more  rapid  pace,  and  in  two 
hours  they  arrived  at  the  camp.  Mr.  Winters 
and  old  Bob  were  lying  in  the  shade  of  the 
wagon,  and  as  the  boys  approached,  the  former 
raised  himself  on  his  elbow,  and  inquired: 

"  Well,  boys,  how.  do  you  like  traveling  on 
your  own  hook?  J)o  you  think  you  could  find 
your  way  to  California  without  a  guide?  " 

"  Oh,  they  war  all  right !  "  exclaimed  Dick, 
leaning  his  rifle  against  the  wagon,  and  pick- 
ing up  the  antelope  skin  which  Archie  had 
thrown  down,  and  which  contained  some 
choice  pieces  of  meat.  "  They  war  all  right ! 
Me  and  Useless  found  'em  down  on  Muddy 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  117 

Creek,  Bob.  They  had  killed  this  prong-horn, 
made  their  camp,  an'  war  taking'  matters  easy 
like,  as  though  they  had  never  heered  tell  on 
a  Comanche — the  keerless  fellers." 

While  Frank  and  Archie  were  unsaddling 
their  horses,  the  trapper  proceeded  to  recount 
their  adventures,  to  which  both  Mr.  Winters 
and  old  Bob  listened  attentively.  The  latter 
was  not  a  little  astonished  to  learn  that  the 
boys  could  so  readily  accommodate  themselves 
to  circumstances,  and  was  more  firm  than  ever 
in  his  belief  that  "  the  youngsters  would  make 
good  trappers." 

Mr.  Winters  had,  at  first,  been  considerably 
alarmed  at  their  absence ;  but,  upon  reflection, 
he  remembered  that  the  boys  had  often  been  in 
positions  fully  as  dangerous,  from  which  they 
had  always  succeeded  in  extricating  them- 
selves, and  he  soon  fell  in  with  the  trap- 
per's opinion,  that  they  would  "  turn  up  all 
right."  He  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  cau- 
tion them,  for,  from  the  description  the  trap- 
per gave  of  their  adventures,  it  was  not  at  all 


n8  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

probable  that  they  would  ever  again  be  placed 
in  a  like  situation. 

After  a  hearty  dinner,  which  Dick  speedily 
served  up,  they  again  set  out  toward  the  moun- 
tains, which  they  reached  about  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon.  After  riding  along  the  edge  of 
the  willows,  for  half  a  mile,  they  came  to  a 
wide  but  very  shallow  stream,  into  which  the 
trapper  turned,  and  after  following  it  for  some 
distance,  drove  out  on  the  bank  and  stopped. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  he,  as  he  climbed  down 
out  of  his  wagon.  "  Now,  youngsters,  you're 
at  the  ole  bar's  hole.  But  if  you  didn't  know  it 
war  here,  you  might  hunt  fur  it  till  your  bar 
war  whiter  nor  Bob's,  an'  then  you  wouldn't 
find  it,  an'  that  wouldn't  be  no  wonder  neither ; 
fur  many  a  sharp-eyed  Comanche  has  looked 
an'  peeped  fur  it,  but  only  one  ever  found  it 
that  I  know  of,  an'  it  didn't  do  him  no  good, 
fur  he  never  lived  to  tell  of  it." 

While  the  trapper  was  speaking,  old  Bob 
had  dismounted  from  his  horse,  and,  walking 
up  to  a  thicket  of  bushes  which  grew  at  the 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  119 

foot  of  a  high  rock  that  overhung  the  bed  of 
the  stream,  began  pulling  them  aside,  and 
finally  disclosed  to  view  an  opening  that  ap- 
peared to  lead  down  into  the  very  bowels  of 
the  earth.  Meanwhile,  Dick  had  gathered 
some  dry  wood  for  a  torch,  and,  after  lighting 
it,  he  backed  down  into  the  hole  and  disap- 
peared, followed  by  Frank  and  Archie,  who 
were  impatient  to  see  the  inside  of  the  cave 
which  had  so  often  served  the  guide  as  a  secure 
retreat  from  his  enemies.  The  passage  was 
long  and  winding,  and  it  was  with  considerable 
difficulty  that  the  boys  worked  their  way  into 
it.  Besides,  it  was  in  some  places  so  narrow 
that  they  could  scarcely  squeeze  themselves 
through  it.  The  trapper,  however,  worked  his 
way  along  with  a  celerity  that  was  surprising, 
and  soon  both  he  and  the  torch  were  out  of 
sight,  and  the  boys  were  left  in  pitch  darkness. 
But  there  was  little  danger  of  their  being  lost 
in  that  narrow  passage,  and  they  crawled  along 
as  rapidly  as  possible,  until  at  length  Archie, 
who  was  leading  the  way,  stopped,  and  began 


I2O  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

\ 

to  rub  his  elbows  and  knees,  which  had  re- 
ceived some  pretty  severe  scratches  from  -the 
sharp  rocks. 

"  I  say,  Frank,"  he  exclaimed,  "  how  do  you 
suppose  Dick  ever  squeezed  his  broad  shoul- 
ders through  a  narrow  place  like  this?  What's 
that?"  he  added,  in  a  terrified  voice,  as  they 
heard  a  savage  growl,  which  seemed  to  sound 
directly  over  their  heads. 

Frank  did  not  stop  to  answer,  but  throwing 
himself  on  his  hands  and  knees,  began  to  make 
the  best  of  his  way  out  of  the  passage,  closely 
followed  by  his  cousin,  who  urged  him  to  go 
faster.  They  had  not  gone  far  when  they  were 
startled  by  the  report  of  a  rifle,  which  was 
followed  by  a  roar  that  echoed  and  re-echoed 
through  the  cave  like  a  heavy  clap  of  thunder. 
What  it  was  that  had  uttered  that  roar  the 
boys  were  unable  to  determine ;  but  they  knew, 
by  the  report  of  the  trapper's  rifle,  and  the 
sounds  of  a  fierce  struggle  that  came  faintly  to 
their  ears,  that  Dick  had»found  his  old  harbor- 
ing-place occupied  by  some  animal  which  did 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  121 

not  feel  disposed  to  give  up  possession;  and 
they  got  out  of  the  passage  in  much  less  time 
than  it  had  taken  them  to  get  into  it.  When 
they  reached  the  open  air,  the  old  trapper,  who 
had  heard  the  report  of  his  "  chum's  "  rifle, 
threw  himself  on  his  hands  and  knees,  and 
crawled  into  the  cave,  followed  by  Mr.  Win- 
ters. The  hoys  at  once  ran  to  the  wagon  after 
their  weapons,  but  by  the  time  they  had 
secured  them,  the  fight  was  ended,  and  Dick 
made  his  appearance  at  the  mouth  of  the  pas- 
sage. But  he  did  not  look  like  the  man  who 
had  gone  into  that  cave  but  a  few  moments 
before.  His  hunting-shirt  and  leggins  were 
torn  almost  into  shreds,  his  arms  were  bare 
to  his  shoulders,  and  were  covered  with 
wounds  that  were  bleeding  profusely.  The 
boys  were  horrified;  but  their  fears  that  the 

trapper  had  received  serious  injury  were  speed- 

/ 

ily  set  at  rest,  for  he  smiled  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Now  you  see  what  it  is  to  be  a  trapper, 
youngsters.     I  shall  allers  think  that  'ar  cave 


122  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

has  a  good  name,  fur  if  me  an'  Useless  didn't 
find  the  biggest  grizzly  bar  in  thar  we  ever  sot 
eyes  on,  then  thar  ain't  no  more  beaver  in  the 
Missouri  River." 

As  he  spoke,  he  divested  himself  of  what 
remained  of  his  hunting-shirt,  and  walked 
down  to  the  creek  to  wash  the  blood  off  his 
hands  and  face,  in  which  he  was  assisted  by 
Mr.  Winters.  While  this  was  going  on,  old 
Bob  crawled  out  of  the  cave,  carrying  two 
cubs  in  his  arms,  which  he  presented  to  the 
boys,  saying : 

"  Them's  young  grizzlies.  They  don't  look 
now  as  if  they  would  ever  get  to  be  as  big  and 
fierce  as  their  mother  war." 

As  the  boys  took  them,  they  both  set  up  a 
shrill  cry,  and  fought  most  desperately  for 
such  small  animals,  and  their  sharp  little 
claws  left  more  than  one  mark  upon  the  hands 
and  faces  of  the  young  hunters. 

"  Keep  an  eye  open,  Bob,"  shouted  Dick, 
who  was  seated  on  the  ground,  while  Mr. 
Winters  was  bandaging  his  wounds.  "  Keep 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  123 

an'  eye  open,  'cause  the  old  man  of  the  family 
may  be  'round." 

Upon  hearing  this,  Archie  dropped  his  cub, 
and  seizing  his  rifle,  cast  anxious  glances  upon 
the  surrounding  woods.  But  if  the  father  was 
in  the  vicinity,  he  evidently  thought  it  best  to 
keep  out  of  sight. 

When  Dick's  wounds  had  been  cared  for, 
and  he  had  put  on  another  suit  of  clothes,  he 
seated  himself  on  the  ground,  near  the  boys, 
while  Bob  kindled  a  fire  and  began  prepara- 
tions for  supper. 

"  It  ain't  allers  fun  to  be  a  trapper,  young- 
sters," said  Dick,  puffing  away  at  his  pipe, 
"  'cause,  afore  a  man  can  earn  that  name,  he's 
got  to  go  through  a  heap  of  skrimmages,  like 
the  one  I  jest  had.  When  I'm  on  the  prairy, 
or  in  the  mountains,  I  allers  keep  my  eyes 
open,  an'  the  fust  thing  I  seed  as  I  crawled 
out  of  that  passage  into  that  ar'  cave  war  that 
grizzly  bar.  She  seed  me,  too,  and  set  up  a 
growl,  as  if  to  tell  me  that  I  couldn't  get  away 
from  thar  any  too  quick;  but  she  didn't  wink 


124  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

niore'n  twice  afore  I  sent  a  chunk  of  lead  into 
her.  The  light  of  the  torch,  however,  bothered 
me,  an'  I  didn't  shoot  atween  her  eyes,  as  I 
meant  to;  an'  afore  a  feller  could  say  '  Gin'ral 
Jackson,'  she  war  comin'  at  me.  Now,  I've 
been  in  jest  such  scrapes  afore,  an'  the  way  I've 
got  pawed  up,  an'  seed  other  fellers  that  were 
bigger  and  stronger  than  me,  clawed  an'  torn, 
Las  showed  me  that  no  one  man  that  ever  lived 
is  a  match  for  a  full-grown  grizzly ;  an'  when  I 
seed  ole  Bob  poke  his  rifle  out  of  the  passage 
an'  draw  a  bead  on  that  bar's  head,  I'll  allow 
it  made  me  feel  a  heap  easier.  If  he  had  stayed 
away  five  minits  longer,  I  don't  believe  I'd  ever 
showed  you  the  way  to  Californy.  As  it  war, 
I  got  pretty  well  clawed  up." 

This  was  the  way  the  trapper  described  the 
fight  in  the  cave,  which  was  one  of  the  most 
desperate  he  had  ever  engaged  in,  as  the  severe 
wounds  he  had  received  proved.  But  he  looked 
upon  such  things  as  a  matter  of  course.  He 
expected  to  be  engaged  in  many  similar  fights ; 
always  held  himself  in  readiness  for  them,  and 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  125 

when  they  were  over,  another  notch  was  added 
to  those  on  the  handle  of  his  knife  (for  Dick 
kept  a  strict  account  of  the  number  of  grizzlies 
he  killed,)  and  he  had  another  story  to  tell  by 
the  camp-fire. 

After  supper,  the  trappers  procured  torches, 
and,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Winters  and  the 
boys,  proceeded  to  explore  the  cave.  There, 
lying  where  she  had  fallen  in  defense  of  her 
young,  was  the  grizzly,  which  was  the  first  of 
these  animals  the  boys  had  ever  seen.  As  near 
as  they  could  judge,  she  was  fully  twice  the 
size  and  weight  of  the  bear  Frank  had  killed 
in  the  woods,  and  her  claws,  which  she  had 
used  with  such  effect  upon  the  trapper  and  his 
dog,  (for,  in  defending  his  master,  Useless  had 
been  most  roughly  handled,)  measured  eight 
inches  in  length.  Everything  in  the  cave  bore 
evidence  to  the  fact  that  the  fight  had  been  a 
severe  one.  The  floor  and  walls  were  covered 
with  blood,  and  on  the  bear's  body  were  numer- 
ous wounds,  made  by  the  knife  of  the  trap- 
per, and  the  teeth  of  the  faithful  Useless. 


126  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

After  the  boys  had  examined  the  bear  to 
their  satisfaction,  old  Bob  began  to  remove  the 
skin,  while  Dick  pointed  out  other  objects  of 
interest  in  the  cave.  There  were  the  withered 
hemlock  boughs  which  had  many  a  time  served 
him  and  Bill  Lawson  for  a  bed,  and  under  them 
was  a  hole  about  two  feet  square,  which  the 
trapper  called  his  "  pantry."  He  told  Mr. 
Winters  the  story  of  the  "  struggle  in  the 
cave,''  and  showed  him  the  passage  that  led  to 
the  top  of  the  hill  where  the  Comanches  had 
entered,  and  where  he  had  for  two  days  kept 
watch,  awaiting  the  coming  of  old  Bill. 

They  remained  in  the  cave  for  an  hour,  lis- 
tening to  Dick's  stories;  for  in  his  mind  the 
"  Ole  Bar's  Hole  "  was  associated  with  many 
exciting  events,  and  it  was  dark  before  they 
returned  to  the  camp. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  127 


CHAPTER  IX. 
ARCHIE'S  ADVENTURE  WITH  A  GRIZZLY. 

ON  the  following  morning  the  boys,  as  usual, 
were  up  with  the  sun,  impatient  to  try  their 
skill  on  the  big  game,  with  which  the  woods 
abounded.  The  trapper,  who,  during  his  fight 
in  the  cave,  had  received  wounds  that  would 
have  prostrated  an  ordinary  man,  was  already 
stirring,  and,  having  attended  to  his  mules, 
was  moving  about  as  lively  as  ever,  preparing 
the  morning  meal.  In  a  few  moments  their 
breakfast  was  cooked  and  eaten,  and,  after 
hanging  their  provisions  on  the  trees,  out  of 
reach  of  any  wild  beast  that  might  find  his  way 
into  camp  during  their  absence,  they  shoul- 
dered their  rifles  and  followed  the  trappers 
into  the  forest.  Here  they  divided  into  two 


128  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

parties,  Mr.  Winters  going  with  old  Bob,  and 
the  boys  accompanying  Dick. 

"  Now,  youngsters,"  said  the  latter  almost  in 
a  whisper,  "  we  hain't  huntin'  squirrels. 
We're  arter  bigger  game.  I  don't  s'pose  you 
keer  'bout  tacklin'  a  grizzly  bar  arter  seein'  me 
pawed  up  the  way  I  war  last  night;  so  if  you 
happen  to  come  acrost  one  of  them  varmints, 
you  needn't  mind  shootin'  at  him.  Thar's 
plenty  other  game,  an'  what  we  want  to  find 
now  ar'  a  big-horn.  That's  an  animal,  I 
reckon,  you  never  seed.  Go  easy,  now,  'cause 
they've  got  ears  like  a  painter's,  an'  noses 
sharper  nor  hounds." 

So  saying,  the  trapper  led  the  way  through  a 
narrow  ravine  that  lay  between  two  mountains, 
whose  tops  seemed  to  pierce  the  clouds.  The 
ravine,  being  thickly  covered  with  bushes  and 
logs,  rendered  their  progress  slow  and  tedious, 
and  the  boys,  who  could  not  help  thinking 
what  a  fine  hiding-place  it  would  afford  for  a 
bear  or  panther,  often  cast  uneasy  glances 
about  them,  and  kept  as  close  to  the  trapper 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  129 

as  possible.  After  they  had  gone  about  half  a 
mile,  the  latter  suddenly  stopped  and  said: 

"  If  these  yere  trees  could  talk,  a'most  every 
one  of  'era  would  have  a  story  to  tell  you  'bout 
me  an'  ole  Bill  Lawson,  'cause  we've  often 
come  through  this  gully  when  it  war  chuck  full 
of  Comanches.  You  'member  I  onct  told  you 
'bout  waitin'  at  the  ole  bar's  hole  fur  him,  an' 
that  the  ole  feller  had  hid  the  black  mustang 
in  the  bushes !  Wai,  here's  the  very  spot." 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  he  pushed  his  way  into 
a  dense  thicket,  and  showed  the  boys  the 
sapling  to  which  the  old  man  had  tied  the 
horse. 

"  Wai,  that  ar'  animal,"  continued  Dick, 
"  stood  here  fur  two  hours  quiet  an'  still  as  a 
mouse,  an'  we  tuk  him  out  an'  got  safe  off  with- 
out the  varlets  bein'  the  wiser  fur  it.  All  the 
way  through  here  we  could  hear  'em  talkin'  to 
each  other,  an' — Look  thar,  youngsters, 
quick ! " 

Before  the  boys  could  look  up  to  see  what 
had  attracted  the  trapper's  attention,  the 


130  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

sharp  report  of  his  rifle  rung  through  the  gully, 
and  a  queer-looking  animal  came  tumbling 
down  the  mountain,  landing  almost  at  their 
feet.  Far  up  above  the  tree  tops  they  saw  the 
remainder  of  the  flock  bound  over  the  rocks 
and  disappear. 

"  That's  a  sheep,"  said  the  trapper,  hastily 
reloading  his  rifle.  "  He'll  make  a  fust  rate 
dinner,  an',  if  we  keep  our  eyes  open,  we  may 
get  another." 

The  game  did  bear  a  close  resemblance  to 
sheep,  the  only  difference  being  his  enormous 
horns,  which  looked  altogether  too  large  and 
heavy  for  so  small  an  animal  to  carry.  But 
the  trapper  did  not  allow  them  to  closely  ex- 
amine their  prize,  for  he  exclaimed : 

"  If  we  want  more  of  'em  fellers,  we  mustn't 
waste  no  time.  But,  fust,  we  must  separate, 
'cause  the  further  apart  we  get,  the  more  likely 
we  are  to  have  a  shot  at  'em.  Are  you  afraid 
to  stay  here,  little  un?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  replied  Archie,  quickly. 

"  Wai,  then,  keep  your  eyes  up  the  mountain, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  131 

an'  if  you  see  'em  ag'in,  blaze  away.  Come  on, 
Frank.  I'll  show  you  whar  to  stand." 

The  latter  moved  off  with  Dick,  and  Archie 
was  left  to  himself.  After  examining  the  game 
to  his  satisfaction,  he  took  up  a  position  where 
he  could  obtain  a  good  view  of  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  leaned  back  against  a  tree,  and  im- 
patiently waited  for  the  re-appearance  of  the 
big-horns.  In  front  of  him  ran  a  deer  path, 
hard  and  well-beaten  as  any  road.  It  was,  no 
doubt,  used  as  a  highway  by  animals  traveling 
through  the  ravine;  and  Archie  now  and  then 
directed  his  gaze  up  and  down  the  path,  in 
hopes  he  might  discover  some  game  in  that 
direction. 

He  had  remained  in  this  position  for  nearly 
half  an  hour,  when  he  did  see  an  animal  com- 
ing leisurely  down  the  path,  about  fifty  yards 
from  him.  It  was  an  enormous  grizzly  bear. 
It  did  not  appear  to  have  determined  upon  any- 
thing in  particular,  for  it  approached  very 
slowly,  stopping  every  few  feet  to  snuff  the  air, 
and  finally  seated  itself  on  its  haunches,  and 


132  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

proceeded  to  wash  its  paws  and  face,  after  the 
manner  of  a  house  cat.  Archie  had  a  good 
view  of  it.  It  was  nearly  as  large  as  the  one 
the  trapper  had  killed  in  the  cave,  and  the  sight 
of  its  powerful  claws,  and  the  frightful  array 
of  teeth  it  exhibited,  made  the  young  hunter 
shudder.  He  had  not  been  expecting  so  for- 
midable a  visitor,  and  to  say  that  he  was  fright- 
ened would  but  feebly  express  his  feelings.  He 
had  presence  of  mind  enough,  however,  to  move 
behind  his  tree,  out  of  sight ;  but  still  he  could 
not  remove  his  eyes  from  the  animal,  neither 
could  he  determine  upon  any  plan  to  extricate 
himself  from  his  unpleasant  situation.  The 
grizzly  had  not  yet  discovered  him,  and  Archie 
had  his  wits  about  him  sufficiently  to  note  the 
fact,  that  what  little  wind  there  was,  was  blow- 
ing from  the  bear  toward  himself.  For  fully 
five  minutes — it  seemed  much  longer  to  Archie 
—the  grizzly  sat  in  the  path,  sometimes  look- 
ing lazily  about  him,  and  then  licking  his  jaws 
like  a  dog  that  had  just  enjoyed  a  good  meal; 
and  for  the  same  length  of  time  did  the  young 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  133 

hunter  remain  behind  his  tree  watching  his 
movements,  and  wondering  what  course  he 
could  pursue  to  rid  himself  of  his  dangerous 
neighbor.  It  was  not  at  all  probable  that  the 
bear  would  remain  in  that  position  until  the 
trapper  returned.  What  if  he  should  take  it 
into  his  head  to  come  further  down  the  path? 
Archie  would  certainly  be  discovered,  for  the 
path  ran  close  by  the  tree,  behind  which  he  was 
concealed,  and  what  would  the  bear  do  then? 
It  was  something  he  did  not  like  to  think 
about.  He  knew,  from  what  he  had  heard  the 
trapper  say,  that  the  grizzly's  disposition  is 
very  different  from  that  of  the  black  bear. 
The  latter,  unless  rendered  desperate  by  hun- 
ger, will  generally  take  to  his  heels  at  the 
sight  of  a  human  being;  but  the  grizzly  looks 
upon  all  who  invade  his  dominions  as  enemies, 
and  believes  in  punishing  them  accordingly. 

These  thoughts  passed  rapidly  through 
Archie's  mind,  and  in  a  moment  more  his  re- 
solve was  taken.  Keeping  his  eyes  fastened  on 
the  bear,  he  cautiously  raised  his  hand  above 


134  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

his  bead,  and,  to  his  joy,  found  that  he  could 
easily  reach  the  lowest  limbs  of  the  tree,  and 
that  they  were  strong  enough  to  sustain  his 
weight.  But  it  was  not  his  intention  to  leave 
the  grizzly  in  peaceable  possession  of  the  field ; 
for,  as  soon  as  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  he 
had  found  a  way  of  escape,  he  cocked  his  rifle 
and  cautiously  raised  it  to  his  shoulder.  He 
was  trembling  violently,  but  at  length  he  suc- 
ceeded in  quieting  his  nerves  sufficiently  to 
cover  the  bear's  head  with  the  sight  and  pull 
the  trigger.  The  grizzly,  however,  arose  to  his 
feet  just  as  Archie  fired,  and  the  ball,  instead 
of  finding  a  lodgment  in  his  brain,  entered  his 
shoulder.  It  brought  him  to  the  ground,  and 
Archie  caught  one  glimpse  of  him  struggling 
in  the  path,  and  heard  his  growls  of  rage 
and  pain,  as  he  dropped  his  rifle  and  swung 
himself  into  the  lowest  branches  of  the 
tree. 

It  was  evident  that  the  bear  meant  to  take 
ample  revenge  on  him,  for  Archie  heard  him 
coming  up  the  path.  But  he  knew  that  the 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  135 

grizzly  could  not  climb,  and,  after  settling  him- 
self among  the  branches,  he  looked  down  at  his 
enemy  in  perfect  security.  The  bear  knew 
where  he  had  gone,  for  he  ran  directly  to  the 
foot  of  the  tree,  and,  after  smelling  at  the  rifle 
and  pawing  it  out  of  his  way,  he  began  walking 
up  and  down  the  path,  all  the  while  uttering 
those  terrific  growls,  that  made  the  young 
hunter  tremble. 

At  this  moment  Archie  heard  the  report  of  a 
rifle  far  up  the  mountain,  which  was  quickly 
followed  by  another  that  sounded  nearer. 
Then  came  a  crashing  in  the  bushes,  as  the  big- 
horns fled  before  the  hunters,  and  Archie  heard 
his  companions  shouting  to  him: 

"  Look  out,  down  there,"  said  Frank ; 
"  they're  running  directly  toward  you, 
Archie." 

"  Keep  your  eyes  open,  youngster,"  chimed 
in  Dick.  "  Don't  let  'em  go  by  you." 

But  Archie  was  not  in  a  situation  to  inter- 
cept them,  and  he  heard  the  big-horns  dash 
across  the  ravine  and  bound  up  the  mountain 


136  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

on  the  opposite  side  closely  followed  by  the 
dog,  which  barked  fierce  and  loud  at  every 
jump. 

"  Archie,  why  don't  you  shoot? "  again 
shouted  Frank,  his  voice  sounding  as  though 
he  was  coming  down  the  mountain. 

"  I  can't,"  answered  Archie.  "  Look  out ! 
Don't  come  down  here.  I'm  treed  by  a 
grizzly." 

"By  a  grizzly?"  repeated  Frank,  in  aston- 
ishment. "  Has  he  hurt  you?  " 

"  No,"  shouted  Archie,  from  his  tree,  "  I  am 
all  right;  but  I  hurt  him,  I  guess.  Look  out, 
Frank !  he's  going  toward  you." 

This  was  a  fact.  The  grizzly  had  stood  per- 
fectly still  under  the  tree,  listening  to  the 
sounds  of  the  chase,  until,  finding  that  he  could 
not  reach  Archie,  he  determined  to  revenge 
himself  upon  someone  else.  He  had  not  gone 
far  before  Useless,  having  overtaken  and  killed 
a  big-horn  that  his  master  had  wounded,  came 
up,  and,  discovering  the  grizzly,  instantly  gave 
chase.  The  bear,  maddened  by  the  pain  of  his 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  137 

wound,  advanced  with  open  mouth  to  meet 
him;  but  the  dog,  easily  eluding  his  attacks, 
kept  him  busy  until  the  trapper  arrived,  and 
put  an  end  to  the  fight  by  shooting  the  bear 
through  the  head.  Archie  had  watched  the 
struggle  from  his  perch,  and,  seeing  that  the 
grizzly  was  dead,  he  came  down  out  of  his 
tree,  feeling  very  much  relieved. 

"  You  keerless  feller !  "  exclaimed  the  trap- 
per, "  didn't  I  tell  you  not  to  mind  shootin'  at 
a  grizzly  bar?  " 

By  this  time  Frank  had  come  up  with  a  big- 
horn on  his  shoulder,  and,  after  having  re- 
gained his  rifle,  Archie  gave  them  an  account 
of  what  had  transpired. 

"  Wai,"  said  the  trapper,  "  it  war  keerless 
to  go  a  foolin'  with  a  bar  that  ar'  way.  "Now, 
you  stay  here,  an'  I'll  go  an'  get  that  big-horn 
that  Useless  killed." 

The  dog,  as  if  understanding  what  was  said, 
led  his  master  to  the  place  where  he  had  left 
the  game.  When  the  trapper  returned,  he  re- 
moved the  skin  of  the  grizzly,  intending  to 


138  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

cure  it,  and  give  it  to  Archie  to  remember  his 
"  keerlessness  by  "  as  he  said.  After  which, 
they  shouldered  their  game  and  returned  to 
camp. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  139 


CHAPTER   X. 

HANGING  A  BEAR. 

WHEN  they  arrived  at  the  wagon,  they  found 
Mr.  Winters  and  old  Bob  eating  their  dinner. 
Although  not  as  fortunate  as  Dick's  party, 
they  had  not  returned  empty-handed,  for  the 
old  trapper  had  killed  a  big-horn,  and  Mr. 
Winters  had  knocked  over  a  large  gray  wolf. 
Thinking  that  Frank  might  want  the  skin  of 
the  latter  to  mount  in  his  museum,  he  had 
taken  it  off  very  carefully,  and  stretched  it  on 
a  frame  to  dry. 

Archie's  adventure  with  the  grizzly  was  duly 
discussed,  and,  for  an  hour  after  dinner,  the 
boys  sat  by  the  fire  listening  to  the  trapper's 
stories.  But  they  could  not  long  endure  this 
inactivity — there  was  "  no  fun  in  it,"  as  Archie 


140  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

said — so  they  saddled  their  horses  and  set  out 
for  a  ride  over  the  prairie.  They  were  not 
after  game  this  time.  If  they  had  been,  it  is 
not  at  all  probable  they  would  have  discovered 
any,  for  they  raced  their  horses  over  the  swells, 
and  shouted  loud  enough  to  frighten  all  the 
animals  for  a  mile  around.  About  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon  they  grew  tired  of  their  ride, 
and  turned  their  horses  toward  the  camp.  As 
they  rode  slowly  along,  about  half  a  mile  from 
the  willows  that  skirted  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tains, Archie,  who,  as  usual,  was  leading  the 
way,  suddenly  drew  up  his  horse,  exclaim- 
ing: 

"  See  there,  Frank !  There's  another  of  the 
varmints ! " 

Frank  looked  toward  the  willows,  and  saw 
a  large,  grizzly  bear,  seated  on  his  haunches, 
regarding  them  as  if  not  at  all  concerned  about 
their  approach. 

"  We're  safe  now,  Archie,"  said  he,  as  soon 
as  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  the  bear  had 
not  the  slightest  intention  of  seeking  safety  in 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  141 

flight.  "  A  grizzly  can't  outrun  a  horse,  so  let's 
shoot  at  that  fellow." 

"  I — I — believe  I'd  rather  not  meddle  with 
him,"  answered  his  cousin,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.  "  I  say,  let  him  alone  if  he  let's  us 
alone.  What  if  our  horses  should  get  fright- 
ened and  throw  us?  Wouldn't  we  be  in  a  fix? 
But  I'll  shoot  at  him  from  here." 

"  Why,  it's  too  far,"  said  Frank.  "  I  am 
going  up  nearer."  As  he  spoke,  he  put  his 
horse  into  a  gallop  and  rode  toward  the  bear, 
which  was  still  seated  in  the  edge  of  the  wil- 
lows. Archie  did  not  at  all  like  the  idea  of 
provoking  a  fight  with  the  animal;  but,  after 
a  moment's  hesitation,  he  followed  his  cousin. 
There  might  be  no  danger  after  all,  he  thought, 
for  that  bear  certainly  could  not  catch  Sleepy 
Sam.  The  grizzly  still  kept  his  seat,  closely 
watching  the  movements  of  the  hunters,  and 
once  or  twice  he  seemed  inclined  to  advance 
on  them;  but,  after  walking  a  few  steps,  he 
again  seated  himself,  as  if  to  await  their  ap- 
proach. 


142  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

The  boys  had  gone  but  a  short  distance, 
when  their  horses  discovered  the  animal,  and 
Pete  at  once  stopped,  and  refused  to  go  any 
further.  He  had  evidently  had  some  experi- 
ence in  bear  hunting,  for  the  sight  of  the 
animal  seemed  to  terrify  him.  Words  had 
more  effect  than  the  spurs,  for  when  Frank 
spoke  encouragingly  to  him,  he  would  advance 
a  few  steps,  and  then,  as  if  suddenly  recalling 
his  former  experience,  he  would  hastily  re- 
treat. In  this  way,  he  succeeded  in  getting 
further  and  further  away  from  the  bear,  in- 
stead of  going  toward  it.  Archie  now  took 
the  lead,  in  hopes  that  his  cousin  could  induce 
his  horse  to  follow  the  old  buffalo  hunter ;  but 
Pete  utterly  refused  to  go  any  nearer,  and 
Frank  at  length  dismounted  and  prepared  to 
risk  a  shot  at  the  bear  at  long  range.  The  ani- 
mal accepted  this  as  a  challenge,  for  he  arose 
to  his  feet,  growling  savagely,  and  made  to- 
ward the  boys  at  a  rate  of  speed  that  as- 
tonished them. 

When  Frank  dismounted,  he  was  careful  to 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  143 

retain  a  firm  hold  of  Pete's  bridle,  for  the 
actions  of  the  horse  plainly  indicated  that,  if 
left  to  himself,  he  would  take  to  his  heels,  and 
get  as  far  as  possible  away  from  the  dangerous 
neighborhood.  When  he  saw  that  the  bear  was 
coming  toward  him,  he  snorted  and  plunged, 
rendering  it  impossible  for  Frank  to  shoot; 
and,  in  fact,  the  latter  had  no  desire  to  do  so, 
when  he  found  that  the  grizzly  was  about  to  as- 
sume the  offensive.  His  first  thought  was  to  re- 
mount; but  the  horse  was  so  terrified  that  he 
would  not  stand  still  long  enough  for  Frank 
to  place  his  foot  in  the  stirrup. 

"  Hurry  up,  there ! "  exclaimed  Archie,  ex- 
citedly. "  The  rascal  is  coming  fast.  He 
means  fight,  sure  enough." 

Pete  evidently  thought  so  too,  for  he  reared 
and  plunged  worse  than  ever,  pulling  Frank 
about  over  the  prairie  in  spite  of  all  he 
could  do.  Suddenly  there  was  a  loud  snap, 
and  the  bridle,  broken  close  to  the  bit,  was 
violently  pulled  through  Frank's  hand.  The 
next  moment  Pete  had  disappeared  behind  a 


144  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

swell.  For  an  instant  the  cousins  gazed  at 
each  other  in  dismay.  On  foot,  Frank  could 
not  hope  to  escape  from  the  bear,  which,  in 
spite  of  his  clumsy  appearance,  was  making 
his  way  toward  them  with  surprising  rapidity ; 
neither  could  he  disable  him  by  a  shot  from  his 
rifle.  Before,  he  had  been  as  cool  and  collected 
as  he  possibly  could  be,  for  he  knew  that  he 
had  a  way  of  escape.  But  Pete  seemed  to  have 
carried  the  last  particle  of  his  master's  cour- 
age away  with  him,  for  Frank's  hand  trembled 
so  violently  that  he  knew  it  would  be  useless  to 
fire  at  the  bear.  But  still  there  was  a  chance 
for  escape,  and  Archie  was  the  first  to  think 
of  it. 

"  Frank !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  there's  only  one 
way  now — jump  up  behind  me." 

His  cousin  was  prompt  to  act  upon  the  sug- 
gestion, and  Sleepy  Sam,  in  answer  to  a  thrust 
from  his  master's  spurs,  carried  them  both 
toward  the  camp  at  a  rapid  gallop. 

They  no  longer  thought  of  fighting  the 
grizzly ;  their  only  desire  was  to  reach  the  old 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  145 

bear's  hole  as  soon  as  possible,  and  procure  the 
assistance  of  the  trappers.  They  both  thought 
that  the  animal  would  soon  abandon  the  chase, 
and  their  only  fear  was,  that  before  they  could 
reach  the  camp  and  acquaint  Dick  with  what 
had  transpired,  the  bear  would  be  safe  among 
the  mountains.  But  they  soon  discovered  their 
mistake.  The  grizzly  steadily  followed  them, 
and,  although  Sleepy  Sam  made  excellent  time 
for  a  horse  encumbered  with  a  double  load, 
gained  at  every  step.  But  they  were  rapidly 
nearing  the  old  bear's  hole,  and,  at  length,  the 
boys  saw  their  uncle  and  the  trappers  ride  out 
of  the  willows.  Dick  was  mounted  on  Frank's 
horse.  The  animal,  when  he  found  himself  at 
liberty,  had  made  straight  for  camp,  and  his 
appearance  there,  without  his  rider,  occa- 
sioned no  little  surprise  and  alarm.  Dick,  as 
usual,  predicted  that  "  Frank  warn't  a  bit  hurt. 
He  would  be  sartin  to  turn  up  all  right."  But 
still  he  did  not  know  but  the  young  hunter 
had  got  himself  into  "  some  scrape,"  in  which 
he  would  need  assistance,  and  agreed  with  Mr. 


146  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Winters  that  it  would  be  best  to  hunt  him  up. 
The  latter  was  fast  falling  in  with  the  trap- 
per's opinion,  that  his  nephews  were  "  'bout 
the  keerlessest  chaps  agoin' ; "  and  although  he 
knew  that  they  always  succeeded  in  bringing 
themselves  "  safe  out  of  all  their  scrapes,"  he 
felt  considerably  relieved,  when  he  saw  that 
Sleepy  Sam  had  carried  them  out  of  reach  of 
the  claws  of  the  grizzly. 

Archie,  when  he  found  that  assistance  was 
at  hand,  stopped  and  faced  the  bear,  intending 
to  try  a  shot  at  him.  But  the  trappers  gal- 
loped toward  them,  Dick  shouting,  "  Hold  on 
thar,  you  keerless  feller;  me  an'  Bob'll  take 
him  off  your  hands.  We'll  show  you  how  they 
hunt  bars  in  Mexico.  We'll  hang  the  varmint." 

The  trapper  swung  a  lasso  above  his  head, 
as  he  spoke,  and  brought  it  down  across  Pete's 
sides,  in  a  way  that  made  the  spirited  animal 
prance  in  the  most  lively  manner.  The  horse 
was  still  unwilling  to  approach  the  bear;  but 
he  knew  full  well  that  he  carried  a  rider  who 
was  able  to  enforce  obedience. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  147 

The  grizzly  stopped  for  a  moment  when  he 
saw  these  new  enemies  approaching,  then  he 
rushed  toward  old  Bob,  who  was  in  advance  of 
his  companion.  But  he  was  met  by  the  trap- 
per's dog,  which  attacked  him  with  such  fury 
that  the  bear  was  obliged  to  stop  and  defend 
himself.  Old  Bob  rode  in  a  circle  around  the 
combatants,  holding  his  lasso  in  his  hand  all 
ready  for  a  throw,  and  yelling  with  all  the 
strength  of  his  lungs  to  encourage  the  dog. 
Dick  was  making  desperate  efforts  to  join  his 
companion,  but  his  horse  stopped  about  a  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  bear,  and  stubbornly  re- 
fused to  go  nearer.  His  rider,  resolved  to  have 
his  own  way,  beat  him  most  unmercifully  with 
his  lasso,  and,  as  the  horse  appeared  to  be 
equally  determined,  the  boys  were  unable  to 
decide  how  the  battle  would  end.  All  this 
while  Useless  had  kept  up  the  contest  with  the 
bear,  and  the  animal  finding  that  he  could  not 
elude  his  attack,  rose  on  his  haunches  and 
struck  at  the  dog  with  his  paws.  Old  Bob  had 
been  waiting  for  this.  Swinging  his  lasso 


148  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

around  his  head,  he  launched  it  at  the  bear, 
and  as  the  noose  settled  down  about  his  neck, 
he  turned  his  horse  and  galloped  off.  The  next 
moment  there  was  a  heavy  thud,  a  smothered 
growl  of  rage,  and  the  grizzly  was  prostrate 
on  the  prairie.  He,  however,  quickly  regained 
his  feet,  and,  disregarding  the  attacks  of  the 
dog,  rushed  with  open  mouth  toward  old  Bob. 
Now  was  the  time  for  Dick.  Having,  at  last, 
been  whipped  into  obedience,  Pete  gamely  ap- 
proached the  bear,  and,  in  an  instant  more, 
grizzly  was  powerless.  Dick  was  on  one  side 
of  him,  old  Bob  on  the  other;  and  their  lassos 
were  drawn  so  taut  he  could  not  turn  either 
way.  If  he  attempted  to  attack  Bob,  he  was 
checked  by  Dick;  and  if  he  rushed  upon  the 
latter,  old  Bob's  lasso  stopped  him.  The  griz- 
zly's struggles  were  desperate;  his  growls  ter- 
rific. He  tore  at  the  lassos  with  his  claws,  and 
exerted  all  his  tremendous  strength  to  break 
the  raw-hide  ropes,  wThich  were  drawn  as  tight 
as  a  bow-string.  But  the  conflict,  desperate  as 
it  was,  lasted  only  a  short  time.  The  grizzly's 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  149 

struggles  grew  weaker,  his  growls  fainter,  and 
finally  he  sank  on  the  prairie  dead.  The  trap- 
pers slackened  up  their  lassos,  and  Mr.  Winters 
and  the  boys,  who  had  closely  watched  this 
singular  contest,  rode  up  to  examine  their 
prize. 

"  Thar's  your  bar,  you  keerless  fellers,"  said 
Dick.  "  If  you  don't  let  these  yere  varmints 
alone,  you'll  git  yourselves  in  a  bad  scrape,  one 
of  these  days,  now,  I  tell  you.  A  grizzly  don't 
wait  fur  a  feller  to  walk  up  an'  shake  his  fist  in 
his  face,  an'  say,  '  Do  ye  want  to  fight?'  He 
b'lieves  in  makin'  war  on  every  one  he  sees." 

"We  know  that!"  replied  Archie.  "This 
fellow  made  at  us  before  we  got  near  enough  to 
shoot  at  him." 

"  Then  you  did  mean  to  fight  him,  did  you?  " 
asked  the  trapper,  as  he  and  old  Bob  began  to 
skin  the  bear.  "  Wai,  it  ain't  every  feller  that 
would  keer  'bout  meddlin'  with  a  grizzly  so 
long  as  the  critter  let  him  alone.  I've  seed 
trappers — an'  brave  ones,  too — that  would 
shoulder  their  we'pons  an'  walk  off  if  they 


1 50  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

happened  to  come  acrost  a  bar.  It  ain't  allers 
fun  to  hang  a  grizzly,  neither ;  fur  if  your  boss 
falls  down,  or  your  lasso  breaks,  you're  a'most 
sartin  to  go  under.  I've  seed  more'n  one  poor 
chap  pawed  up  'cause  his  boss  warn't  quick 
enough  to  git  out  of  the  varmint's  reach." 

In  this  way  the  trapper  talked  to  the  boys 
until  the  skin  of  the  grizzly  was  taken  off, 
when  the  travelers  returned  to  their  camp.  As 
Archie  remarked,  it  had  been  "  a  great  day  for 
bears,"  and  the  evening  was  appropriately 
passed  in  listening  to  the  stories  the  trappers 
related  of  their  adventures  with  these  animals. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  151 


CHAPTER   XI. 

A   BUFFALO  HUNT. 

THE  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  the  boys 
seated  themselves  by  the  fire,  and  while  Frank 
mended  his  bridle,  which  Pete  had  broken  the 
day  before,  Archie  was  endeavoring  to  conjure 
up  some  plan  for  the  day's  amusement.  Even 
in  that  country,  which  abounded  with  game, 
the  boys  were  at  a  loss  how  to  pass  the 
time,  for  the  grizzlies  had  interfered  with  their 
arrangements  considerably.  If  they  went 
hunting  in  the  mountains,  they  might  come 
across  another  bear;  and  their  recent  experi- 
ence with  those  animals  had  shown  them  that 
the  hunters  were  sometimes  the  hunted.  They 
had  no  desire  for  further  adventures  with  the 
monsters,  and  they  had  at  last  decided  that 


152  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

they  would  take  a  gallop  over  the  prairie,  when 
they  were  startled  by  the  clatter  of  horses' 
hoofs  in  the  creek,  and  old  Bob — who,  at  day- 
light, had  started  out  on  a  "  prospecting"  ex- 
pedition— galloped  into  camp,  breathless  and 
excited.  The  boys  very  naturally  cast  their 
eyes  toward  the  prairie,  to  see  if  he  were  not 
followed  by  a  grizzly;  but  the  sight  of  one  of 
those  animals  never  affected  the  old  trap- 
per in  that  manner.  He  had  seen  what  he 
considered  larger  and  more  profitable 
game. 

"  Dick,"  he  exclaimed,  drawing  up  his  horse 
with  a  sudden  jerk — "  Dick,  have  some  buf- 
faler  hump  for  dinner?  " 

"  Sartin,"  replied  the  trapper,  hastily  rising 
to  his  feet,  and  throwing  away  his  pipe.  "  In 
course.  Saddle  up  to  onct,  youngsters.  We'll 
have  some  game  now  as  is  game." 

The  announcement  that  there  is  a  herd  of 
buffaloes  in  the  vicinity,  always  creates  an 
uproar  in  a  hunter's  camp,  and  there  was  no 
exception  to  the  rule  this  time.  The  boys  had 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  153 

never  seen  the  trapper  so  eager ;  and  even  Mr. 
Winters,  generally  so  cool  and  deliberate,  was 
not  so  long  in  saddling  his  horse  as  usual. 
This,  of  course,  had  an  effect  upon  the  boys; 
but,  as  is  always  the  case,  their  hurry  occa- 
sioned them  a  considerable  loss  of  time.  Ar- 
chie could  not  find  his  bridle,  and  Frank,  in  his 
eagerness,  broke  his  saddle-girth ;  and,  to  in- 
crease their  excitement,  the  others,  as  soon  as 
they  had  saddled  their  horses  (Dick  rode  one  of 
the  mules)  and  secured  their  weapons,  rode  off, 
leaving  them  alone.  Archie,  after  a  lengthy 
search,  found  his  bridle  in  the  wagon,  and 
Frank  at  last  succeeded  in  mending  his  saddle- 
girth  with  a  piece  of  buckskin.  The  boys'  rifles 
stood  together  against  a  tree,  close  by,  with  all 
the  accouterments  hanging  to  the  muzzles. 
Frank's  being  a  common  "  patch  "  rifle,  he,  of 
course,  had  a  powder-horn  and  bullet  pouch, 
while  Archie  carried  the  ammunition  for  his 
breech-loader  in  a  haversack.  The  latter  was 
ready  first,  and  hastily  seizing  the  gun  that 
came  first  to  his  hand,  secured  Frank's  instead 


154  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

of  his  own,  and,  putting  his  horse  into  a  gal- 
lop, rode  down  the  bed  of  the  creek,  throwing 
the  powder-horn  and  bullet  pouch  over  his 
shoulder  as  he  went.  Frank  was  ready  a  mo- 
ment afterward,  and  finding  his  own  rifle 
gone,  he,  of  course,  took  Archie's.  Although  he 
thought  nothing  of  it  at  the  time,  he  afterward 
looked  upon  it  as  a  lucky  circumstance.  In 
addition  to  their  rifles,  the  boys  each  had  two 
revolvers,  which  they  carried  in  their  holsters. 
Frank  overtook  the  hunters  at  the  edge  of  the 
prairie,  where  they  had  stopped  to  wait  for 
him,  and  to  hold  a  consultation.  The  high 
swells  that  rose  in  every  direction  shut  them 
out  from  the  view  of  the  game,  but  old  Bob 
knew  exactly  where  to  go  to  find  it.  As  they 
went  along,  at  an  easy  gallop,  Dick  rode  up 
beside  the  boys,  and,  addressing  himself  to 
Frank,  said : 

"  Now,  youngster,  this'll  be  new  bisness  to 
you,  so  don't  be  keerless.  You  must  'member 
that  your  hoss  ar'  as  green  as  a  punkin  in 
buffaler  huntin',  an',  if  you  let  him  get  stam- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  155 

peded,  he'll  take  you  cl'ar  to  Mexico  afore  he 
stops." 

"  Stampeded !  "  repeated  Frank.  "  Does  a 
horse  ever  get  stampeded  with  buffaloes?  " 

"  Sartin  he  do,"  answered  the  trapper,  with 
a  laugh ;  "  an'  if  you  ever  get  teetotally  sur- 
rounded by  a  thousand  bellerin',  pitchin'  buf- 
falers,  you'll  say  it's  the  wust  scrape  you  ever 
war  in.  So  don't  go  too  clost  to  'em.  If  your 
hoss  gets  frightened,  stop  him  to  onct,  and 
quit  follerin'  'em." 

Dick  was  then  proceeding  to  instruct  the 
boys  in  the  manner  of  hunting  the  buffaloes, 
when  old  Bob,  who  had  been  leading  the  way, 
suddenly  came  to  a  halt. 

"  They're  just  behind  that  swell,"  said  he. 
"Don't  you  hear  'em?  Now,  we  must  sepa- 
rate." Then,  in  hurried  whispers,  he  pointed 
out  the  station  he  wished  each  to  occupy,  and 
after  Dick  had  again  cautioned  Frank  to  keep 
his  horse  completely  under  his  control,  the 
boys  rode  away  in  different  directions. 

When  Frank  reached  his  station,  he  stopped 


156  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

his  horse,  examined  his  rifle,  opened  his  hol- 
sters, so  that  he  could  readily  draw  his  re- 
volvers, and  waited  impatiently  for  the  signal. 
The  hunters  were  stationed  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  apart.  Old  Bob  was  in  the  center  of 
the  line.  After  satisfying  himself  that  they 
were  all  in  their  places,  he  waved  his  hat — the 
signal  for  the  advance.  They  all  started  at  the 
same  moment,  and,  before  Frank  could  think 
twice,  his  horse  had  carried  him  to  the  top  of 
the  swell,  and  he  was  in  full  view  of  the  game. 
The  sight  that  met  his  eyes  astonished  him. 

He  had  often  read  of  the  prairie  being  black 
with  buffaloes,  but  he  had  never  seen  it  before. 
The  herd  was  an  immense  one,  and  stretched 
away  in  all  directions  as  far  as  his  eye  could 
reach.  But  he  was  allowed  no  time  for  ad- 
miration, for,  the  moment  the  hunters  made 
their  appearance,  the  buffaloes  discovered 
them,  and  made  off  at  the  top  of  their  speed, 
the  noise  of  their  hoofs  sounding  on  the  hard 
prairie  like  the  rolling  of  thunder.  Pete  was 
not  afraid  of  buffaloes,  and  he  soon  carried  his 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  157 

master  within  easy  range  of  the  herd,  the  near- 
est of  which  fell  at  the  crack  of  his  rifle.  Too 
impatient  to  reload  his  gun,  Frank  drew  one  of 
his  revolvers,  and,  forgetting,  in  his  excite- 
ment, all  the  trapper's  advice,  spurred  after 
the  flying  herd;  and,  so  close  was  he  to  them, 
that  he  seldom  missed  his  mark.  When  he  had 
fired  all  the  charges,  he  returned  his  empty 
weapon  to  his  holster,  and,  as  he  drew  the 
other,  he  cast  his  eye  in  the  direction  of  his 
companions,  and  was  a  good  deal  surprised  to 
discover  that  some  of  the  herd  had  got  between 
him  and  the  rest  of  his  party,  and  were  run- 
ning almost  side  by  side  with  him.  On  the 
outer  edge  of  the  herd,  he  saw  his  cousin  in 
company  with  the  trappers.  Archie  had, 
doubtless,  emptied  all  his  weapons,  for  he  ap- 
peared to  be  engaged  in  reloading.  Further 
back,  he  saw  Mr.  Winters,  who  had  stopped  to 
"  settle  "  a  large  bull  he  had  wounded.  He 
also  noticed  that  the  mule,  on  which  Dick  was 
mounted,  being  entirely  unaccustomed  to  such 
business,  and  frightened  by  the  discharges  of 


158  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

the  fire-arms,  and  the  noise  of  the  rushing 
herd,  was  making  desperate  but  unsuccessful 
attempts  to  throw  his  rider.  Frank,  taking 
this  all  in  at  a  glance,  then  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  the  animals  nearest  him,  and  soon 
emptied  his  second  revolver. 

All  this  while  Pete  had  been  running  with 
the  bridle  hanging  loose  on  his  neck;  now,  as 
Frank  gathered  up  the  reins,  he  noticed,  for 
the  first  time,  that  he  was  going  at  a  rate  of 
speed  he  had  never  before  accomplished.  This, 
however,  did  not  alarm  him ;  but,  seeing  that 
he  was  leaving  his  companions  behind,  he 
thought  he  would  slacken  his  pace  and  wait 
for  them  to  come  up.  He  drew  in  the  reins, 
but  it  had  no  effect  on  the  horse,  which,  look- 
ing back  over  his  shoulder,  as  if  frightened  at 
something  that  was  pursuing  him,  bounded  off 
faster  than  ever.  Taking  a  firmer  hold  of  the 
reins,  Frank  pulled  again  with  all  his  strength, 
but  to  no  purpose.  Had  he  been  at  sea,  in  an 
open  boat,  without  rudder,  sails,  or  oars,  he 
could  not  have  been  more  helpless  than  he  was 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  159 

at  that  moment.  His  horse,  perfectly  unman- 
ageable, was  running  away  with  him !  In  an 
instant,  the  thought  flashed  through  Frank's 
mind,  that  he  was  in  the  very  position  the  trap- 
per had  so  emphatically  cautioned  him  to 
avoid.  But  still  he  was  not  frightened,  until 
he  cast  his. eyes  behind  him,  and,  to  his  utter 
dismay,  discovered  that  the  herd  had  closed  in 
on  all  sides  of  him.  Around  his  horse  was  a 
clear  space  of  perhaps  a  hundred  yards  in 
diameter,  which  was  slowly  but  surely  growing 
smaller,  as  the  frightened  animals  pressed  and 
crowded  against  each  other.  On  every  side  he 
saw  a  mass  of  horns,  and  tails,  and  shaggy 
shoulders,  which,  like  a  wall,  shut  him  away 
from  his  companions.  Away  off  to  the  right, 
he  saw  the  trappers,  Archie,  and  Mr.  Winters, 
no  longer  pursuing  the  game,  but  gazing  after 
him,  and  throwing  their  arms  wildly  about.  If 
they  shouted,  Frank  did  not  hear  what  they 
said,  for  the  noise  of  that  multitude  of  hoofs 
would  have  drowned  the  roar  of  Niagara. 
They  could  not  assist  him,  neither  could  he 


160  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

help  himself.  That  very  morning  the  trapper 
had  told  him  of  seeing  a  man  trampled  to 
death  by  a  herd  of  buffaloes,  and  now  a  simi- 
lar fate  was  in  store  for  himself.  The  appall- 
ing thought  seemed  to  deprive  him  of  the  last 
particle  of  strength,  for  he  reeled  in  his  saddle, 
and  only  caught  the  mane  of  his  horse  just  in 
time  to  save  himself  from  falling  to  the  ground. 
But,  as  was  always  the  case  with  Frank,  when 
placed  in  situations  of  extreme  danger,  this 
burst  of  weakness  quickly  passed.  While  he 
had  life,  he  could  not  relinquish  all  hope  of 
being  able  to  bring  himself  safely  out  of  even 
this,  the  most  perilous  position  in  which  he 
had  ever  found  himself.  He  could  determine 
upon  no  particular  plan  for  escape,  so  long  as 
he  was  surrounded  by  those  frantic  buffaloes. 
The  only  course  he  could  pursue  was  to  compel 
Pete  to  keep  pace  with  the  herd.  But  this  plan 
did  not  place  him  out  of  the  reach  of  danger. 
He  knew  that  buffaloes,  when  stampeded,  turn 
aside  for  nothing.  Neither  hills  nor  rivers 
check  their  mad  flight,  and  any  living  thing 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  161 

that  stands  in  their  way  is  trampled  to  death. 
Even  the  exhausted  members  of  the  herd,  un- 
able to  keep  pace  with  the  others,  are  borne 
down  and  crushed  to  a  jelly.  They  neither 
seem  to  hear  or  see  anything;  all  their  senses 
being  merged  into  the  desire  to  get  as  far  as 
possible  from  the  object  that  has  excited  their 
alarm ;  and  they  seldom  stop  until  completely 
exhausted. 

Frank  knew  this,  and  the  question  that  arose 
in  his  mind  was,  "  How  long  could  his  horse 
stand  that  rapid  gallop?  "  He  appeared  to  be 
as  thoroughly  frightened  as  the  buffaloes,  and 
it  was  not  at  all  probable  he  would  show  any 
inclination  to  stop,  so  long  as  he  saw  that 
shaggy  mass  behind  him,  or  could  hear  the 
noise  of  their  hoofs,  which  sounded  like  the 
rumbling  of  an  immense  cataract.  The  more 
he  thought  of  his  critical  situation,  the  firmer 
was  his  belief  that  there  was  but  one  way  open 
to  him,  and  that  was  to  keep  ahead  of  the  ani- 
mals, which  were  behind  him.  Having  deter- 
mined upon  this,  he  again  cast  his  eyes  toward 


1 62  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

the  place  where  he  had  last  seen  his  friends. 
They  were  gone,  and  Frank  was  alone  in  the 
midst  of  that  multitude  of  frantic  buffaloes. 

When  the  trappers  had  discovered  Frank's 
situation,  they  knew  it  was  out  of  their  power 
to  assist  him.  After  following  him  a  short 
distance,  in  the  vain  hope  of  making  him  hear 
the  words  of  advice  and  encouragement  which 
they  sent  after  him  with  all  the  strength  of 
their  lungs,  they  had  fallen  back  out  of  sight. 
Dick  had  advised  this  course,  "  Fur,"  said  he, 
"  the  longer  we  foller  'em,  the  faster  they'll 
run.  They  won't  stop  till  they're  clean  gin 
out.  If  the  youngster  stays  on  his  hoss,  an' 
keeps  ahead  of  'em  till  they're  a  leetle  over 
their  fright,  he's  all  right." 

Dick,  however,  did  not  intend  to  leave  his 
young  companion  altogether.  At  his  request, 
-  Archie  gave  up  Sleepy  Sam  to  him,  and,  after 
assuring  the  others,  who  were  in  a  state  of  in- 
tense excitement  and  alarm,  that  he  would  cer- 
tainly find  Frank  and  bring  him  back  safe,  he 
rode  off  in  the  direction  the  buffaloes  had 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  163 

gone,  while  the  rest  of  the  party  returned  to 
collect  their  game. 

Meanwhile,  Pete,  rendered  frantic  by  the 
deafening  noise,  was  carrying  Frank  over  the 
prairie  at  a  terrific  pace.  The  young  hunter's 
alarm  had  somewhat  abated,  and  he  appeared 
as  calm  as  though  he  was  merely  taking  a  ride 
for  amusement ;  but  his  mind  was  exceedingly 
busy,  and,  in  a  very  short  space  of  time,  he 
lived  over  his  whole  life.  He  cast  frequent  and 
anxious  glances  behind,  him,  but  could  see  no 
change  for  the  better  in  his  situation.  The 
buffaloes,  as  far  as  his  eye  could  reach,  pushed 
and  crowded  against  each  other,  apparently  as 
frightened  as  ever,  but  taking  no  notice  what- 
ever of  the  horseman  in  their  midst.  The  space 
around  his  horse  was  gradually  growing 
smaller,  which  made  Frank  shudder  when  he 
thought  what  the  result  would  be  if  they 
should  close  in  upon  him. 

One  hour  passed,  and  still  the  frightened 
herd  dashed  on,  with  the  frantic  horse  and  his 
helpless  rider  in  their  midst,  without,  in  the 


1 64  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

least,  slackening  their  pace.  Pete  was  evi- 
dently in  distress.  That  mad  gallop  was  tell- 
ing on  him  severely ;  but,  while  those  buffaloes 
were  behind  him,  all  attempts  to  stop  him 
would  have  been  useless.  Another  hour  glided 
by,  and,  to  his  joy,  Frank  discovered  that  the 
animals  behind  him  were  scattering,  and  that 
the  line  of  his  pursuers  was  growing  thinner. 
Those  in  front  still  ran  as  fast  as  ever — no 
doubt,  pushed  onward  by  those  behind  them, 
while  those  in  the  extreme  rear  were  evidently 
getting  over  their  fright.  Frank  looked  again 
and  again,  to  satisfy  himself  that  he  was  not 
mistaken,  and  he  was  confident  that,  if  his 
horse  could  hold  out  half  an  hour  longer,  the 
buffaloes,  slowly  dividing  right  and  left,  would 
leave  a  way  of  escape  open  to  him.  The  min- 
utes seemed  lengthened  into  hours ;  but  his  pur- 
suers were  now  rapidly  taking  up  their  places 
on  the  flanks  of  the  herd,  and,  in  a  short  time, 
not  a  buffalo  was  to  be  seen  behind  him. 

Again   Frank   pulled   the  reins,  and   Pete, 
almost  exhausted,  and  no  longer  hearing  that 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  165 

terrific  noise  behind  him,  willingly  stopped. 
Frank,  filled  with  gratitude  for  his  escape, 
threw  himself  from  the  saddle,  just  as  the  last 
of  the  buffaloes  were  disappearing  over  a 
neighboring  swell. 


1 66  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  NIGHT  AMONG  THE  WOLVES. 

IT  would  be  impossible  to  describe  Frank's 
feelings,  as  he  stood  there,  holding  his  panting, 
reeking  horse,  and  listening  to  that  rumbling 
sound,  which  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  as  the 
buffaloes  dashed  on  their  way.  Now  that  the 
danger  of  being  trampled  to  death  was  passed, 
he  did  not  stop  to  think  of  what  was  still  before 
him.  He  cared  not  that  he  was  forty  miles 
from  the  old  bear's  hole,  and  that,  in  three 
hours,  the  sun  would  be  down,  and  he  com- 
pelled to  pass  the  night  alone  on  the  prairie. 
All  thoughts  of  what  he  knew  he  must  endure 
before  he  reached  the  camp  were  swallowed  up 
in  thankfulness  that  he  had  been  able  to  bring 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  167 

himself  safely  out  of  the  most  dangerous  posi- 
tion in  which  he  had  ever  been  placed. 

In  a  few  moments  the  last  of  the  buffaloes 
had  passed  out  of  hearing,  and  Frank  then 
turned  his  attention  to  his  horse. 

Pete  looked  very  unlike  the  sleek,  spirited 
animal  of  which  he  had  been  so  proud.  He 
was  reeking  with  sweat,  panting  loudly,  and 
was  evidently  very  nearly  exhausted.  Had  he 
been  obliged  to  carry  his  rider  a  few  miles 
further,  Frank  might  have  been  compelled  to 
find  his  way  back  to  camp  on  foot.  Pete  was 
also  very  much  in  need  of  water ;  and  now  that 
the  danger  was  over,  Frank  found  that  he,  too, 
was  very  thirsty.  During  his  excitement  and 
alarm  he  had  not  thought  of  it;  but  now  that 
he  was  able  to  think  calmly,  he  decided  that 
his  first  care  should  be  to  find  a  stream  of 
water,  where  he  might  quench  his  thirst. 

After  reloading  his  rifle  and  revolvers,  he 
again  took  Pete  by  the  bridle  and  led  him  in 
the  direction  of  the  mountains,  which,  as  near, 
as  he  could  judge,  were  twenty  miles  distant. 


1 68  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Although  he  was  most  anxious  to  reach  them 
before  night,  in  hopes  that  he  might  find  the 
trapper,  (for  he  knew  that  Dick  would  not  rest 
easy  until  he  had  found  him,)  he  could  not 
bear  the  thought  of  riding  his  horse  while  he 
was  in  such  distress. 

At  length  he  reached  the  top  of  a  swell,  when 
he  paused  to  look  about  him.  On  his  right 
hand,  about  a  mile  distant,  as  he  judged,  he 
saw  a  long  line  of  willows,  which  (so  the  trap- 
pers had  told  him)  were  a  sure  sign  of  water. 
Toward  the  willows,  then,  he  directed  his 
course,  in  hopes  that  his  horse,  when  he  had 
quenched  his  thirst  and  eaten  a  few  mouthfuls 
of  grass,  would  be  in  a  condition  to  travel. 
But  he  soon  found  that  it  was  more  than  a  mile 
to  the  willows — it  was  five  times  that  distance 
— and  it  was  about  an  hour  before  sunset  when 
Frank  reached  the  stream,  and,  kneeling  down 
on  the  bank,  took  a  long,  refreshing  drink. 
Here  he  had  a  most  lively  battle  with  Pete. 
The  horse  was  stubborn,  and  when  he  had  de- 
termined upon  a  course,  it  required  consider- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  169 

able  persuasion  to  induce  him  to  abandon  it. 
He  wanted  to  drink  his  fill  of  the  water  at 
once,  to  which  Frank  objected;  and  it  was  not 
until  Pete  had  received  several  severe  blows 
from  a  branch  that  his  master  cut  from  one  of 
the  willows,  that  he  allowed  himself  to  be  led 
out  of  the  stream.  Frank  then  tied  him  to  a 
tree,  removed  the  saddle,  and  threw  himself  on 
the  ground  to  determine  upon  his  future  move- 
ments. He  was  tired  and  hungry;  he  did  not 
like  the  idea  of  camping  on  the  prairie  alone, 
but  he  could  see  no  way  to  avoid  it.  Then  he 
thought  of  the  trapper,  and  walked  out  on  the 
prairie  to  look  for  him.  But  Dick  was  no- 
where to  be  seen.  Had  Frank  remained  where 
he  had  escaped  from  the  buffaloes,  he  would 
then  have  been  in  the  company  of  his  friend, 
for  the  trapper  was  at  that  moment  standing 
on  the  top  of  the  very  swell,  where  Frank  had 
stood  when  he  first  discovered  the  willows. 
Useless  sat  by  his  side,  looking  up  into  his  mas- 
ter's face,  and  whining  as  if  he,  too,  wrondered 
what  had  become  of  the  object  of  their  search. 


170  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Seeing  no  signs  of  Frank,  Dick  concluded  that 
he  was  still  among  the  buffaloes,  so  he  kept  on 
after  them,  now  and  then  shaking  his  head  and 
muttering — "  The  keerless  feller.  It  beats  all 
natur'  how  that  hoss  of  his'n  traveled."  But 
Frank  did  not  know  that  Dick  was  so  near 
him,  and,  after  waiting  nearly  an  hour  for  him 
to  make  his  appearance,  he  returned  to  the 
willows,  and  set  about  making  his  prepara- 
tions for  the  night.  He  first  selected  a  suitable 
spot  for  a  camp,  and,  after  gathering  a  few 
dry  branches  and  lighting  a  fire  with  a  flint 
and  steel  he  found  in  Archie's  haversack,  he 
took  his  rifle  and  walked  along  the  bank  of 
the  creek  to  find  something  for  his  supper. 
He  generally  took  great  pleasure  in  a  hunt, 
but  there  was  no  sport  in  this  one,  for  he  could 
not  help  thinking  of  his  recent  adventure  with 
the  grizzly.  What  if  he  should  meet  one  of 
those  animals?  He  could  not  hope  for  assist- 
ance from  the  trapper.  He  had  no  one  to  de- 
pend upon  but  himself.  He  had  always  had 
great  confidence  in  his  skill  as  a  marksman, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  171 

but  he  had  never  wished  for  an  opportunity  to 
try  it  on  a  grizzly  bear.  If  there  were  any  of 
those  animals  among  the  willows,  he  did  not 
encounter  them,  and,  in  fact,  the  woods  did 
not  appear  to  abound  in  game  of  any  kind. 
The  only  living  thing  he  discovered  was  a  rac- 
coon crossing  the  creek  on  a  log  just  ahead  of 
him. 

Frank,  knowing  that  he  was  working  for  his 
supper,  made  a  good  shot,  and  when  he  shoul- 
dered the  'coon  and  started  for  his  camp,  he 
felt  relieved  to  know  that  he  was  not  compelled 
to  pass  the  night  hungry.  He  had  often  heard 
that  the  flesh  of  the  'coon  was  excellent,  and 
he  found  it  was  so ;  whether  it  was  because  he 
was  hungry,  or  because  the  meat  was  really 
good,  he  could  not  decide;  but  at  any  rate,  he 
ate  nearly  half  the  'coon,  and  hung  the  re- 
mainder upon  a  limb  to  save  it  for  his  break- 
fast. Then,  after  gathering  a  supply  of  fire- 
wood, sufficient  to  last  all  night,  he  again 
walked  out  on  the  prairie  to  look  for  the  trap- 
per. But  he  was  not  in  sight;  and  when  it 


172  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

began  to  grow  dark,  Frank  returned  to  his 
camp,  feeling  rather  lonesome.  After  he  had 
hobbled  Pete,  (which  he  did  by  tying  one  end 
of  his  halter  around  his  neck,  and  the  other  to 
one  of  his  fore  legs,)  and  turned  him  loose  to 
graze,  he  seated  himself  by  the  fire,  and  heart-  - 
ily  wished  it  was  morning. 

There  was  nothing  pleasant  in  the  thought 
that  he  was  obliged  to  pass  the  night  alone. 
He  had  often  camped  out,  but  he  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  living  in  such  a  wilderness.  Had 
Dick  been  with  him,  he  would  have  slept  as 
soundly  as  he  ever  did  at  home;  but,  as  it  was, 
there  was  no  probability  of  his  enjoying  a  good 
night's  rest.  It  grew  dark  rapidly,  and  the 
prairie,  so  deserted  and  still  in  the  day-time, 
now  seemed  to  be  crowded  with  wolves.  He 
had  heard  them  every  night  since  he  had  been 
on  the  plains,  but  he  had  never  listened  to  such 
a  chorus  as  saluted  his  ears  that  evening.  The 
fact  was,  they  had  been  attracted  by  a  buffalo 
that  lay  but  a  short  distance  from  Frank's 
camp.  It  had  been  wounded  by  the  hunters  in 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  173 

the  morning,  and  becoming  separated  from  the 
herd,  had  come  to  the  creek  for  water,  and 
died.  Frank  knew  that  the  wolves  had  found 
something,  for  he  could  hear  them  growling 
and  fighting  over  their  meal.  Suddenly  they, 
all  set  up  a  howl,  and  took  to  their  heels. 
They  did  not  go  far,  however,  but  appeared  to 
be  running  in  circles  about  their  prey,  as  if 
they  had  been  driven  away  by  some  larger  ani- 
mal. Frank  was  not  pleased  with  his  neigh- 
bors, and  did  not  feel  at  all  inclined  to  go  to 
sleep.  He  sat  before  his  fire,  with  his  rifle 
across  his  knees,  and  his  revolvers  close  at 
hand,  sincerely  hoping  that  the  wolves  would 
not  approach  his  camp.  For  two  hours  he  re- 
mained in  this  position,  and  finally,  becoming 
more  accustomed  to  the  howls  of  the  wolves, 
he  leaned  against  a  tree,  and  was  fast  losing 
all  consciousness  of  what  was  going  on  around 
him,  when  he  was  aroused  by  his  horse,  which 
came  snorting  through  the  willows,  and  did 
not  stop  until  he  had  placed  himself  close  to 
his  master  for  protection.  This  alarmed 


174  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Frank,  who,  remembering  how  Pete  had  acted 
the  day  before,  was  certain  that  there  was  a 
grizzly  bear  prowling  about  his  camp;  and, 
fearful  that  his  horse,  if  left  to  himself,  would 
run  away,  he  slipped  the  bridle  over  his  head, 
and  tied  him  securely  to  a  tree.  While  thus 
engaged,  he  heard  a  slight  noise  in  the  bushes, 
as  if  some  heavy  animal  was  endeavoring  to 
pass  carefully  through  them.  This  continued 
for  half  an  hour,  during  which  the  animal, 
whatever  it  was,  walked  entirely  around  his 
camp.  This  tried  Frank's  nerves  severely.  To 
sit  there,  in  those  woods,  and  listen  to  some 
animal  walking  about,  perhaps  watching  for 
an  opportunity  to  spring  upon  him,  was  al- 
most as  bad  as  facing  a  grizzly.  Again  and 
again  the  animal  made  the  circuit  of  the  camp, 
and  presently  Frank  saw  a  pair  of  eyes,  that 
looked  like  two  coals  of  fire,  glaring  at  him 
through  the  darkness.  Should  he  fire  at  the 
animal?  If  it  was  a  grizzly,  and  the  wound 
should  not  prove  fatal,  his  life  would  not  be 
worth  a  moment's  purchase.  There  might  be 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  175 

bushes  between  him  and  the  beast,  that  would 
glance  the  ball,  or  his  hand  might  prove  un- 
steady. It  was  a  risk  he  did  not  like  to  take; 
but  he  could  try  the  effect  of  fire  on  him.  So, 
catching  up  a  brand,  he  threw  it  at  the  eyes, 
which  instantly  disappeared. 

During  the  livelong  night  did  Frank  sit  by 
the  fire,  holding  his  rifle  in  his  hands,  now  and 
then  caressing  his  horse,  which  stood  close  be- 
side him,  trembling  with  fear;  while,  at  regu- 
lar intervals,  he  heard  a  rustling  in  the  wil- 
lows, which  told  him  that  his  enemy  was  still 
on  the  watch. 

But  all  things  have  an  end.  At  length,  to 
Frank's  immense  relief,  day  began  to  dawn. 
As  soon  as  he  could  distinctly  discern  the 
nearest  objects,  he  again  hobbled  his  horse, 
and,  after  turning  him  loose  to  graze,  began 
to  prepare  his  breakfast.  After  he  had  cooked 
and  eaten  the  last  vestige  of  the  'coon,  he  sad- 
dled Pete,  and,  turning  his  back  upon  the  place 
where  he  had  passed  a  most  uncomfortable 
night,  set  out  toward  the  mountains. 


176  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

About  the  same  hour,  the  trapper  arose  from 
the  prairie,  where  he  had  made  his  camp,  and 
where  he  had  slept  soundly,  in  spite  of  the 
howling  of  the  wolves,  and,  mounting  Sleepy 
Sam,  began  to  follow  up  the  trail  of  the  buf- 
faloes. Each  was  looking  for  the  other,  and 
both  were  traveling  in  exactly  opposite  direc- 
tions. 

Frank  had  a  long  ride  before  him,  and  it 
was  monotonous  and  tiresome.  Pete  appeared 
to  have  fully  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his 
long  run,  for  he  carried  his  rider  at  a  rapid 
pace;  but,  at  sunset,  Frank  had  not  reached 
the  mountains.  He  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  camping  on  that  bare  prairie,  where  he  could 
have  no  fire,  and  he  resolved  to  ride  until  he 
reached  the  timber  at  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tains, if  it  took  him  until  midnight.  Darkness 
settled  down  over  the  prairie,  and,  a  short 
time  afterward,  he  reached  the  woods.  As  he 
rode  slowly  along,  in  the  hope  of  discovering 
some  stream,  on  the  banks  of  which  he  could 
camp,  he  saw  a  light  shining  through  the  trees. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  177 

A  second  look  showed  him  that  it  was  a  camp- 
fire.  No  doubt  he  would  find  Dick  there. 
"Without  hesitating  an  instant,  he  put  spurs  to 
liis  horse,  and  rode  up  in  full  view  of  the  fire, 
around  which  he  saw  four  men  lying  on  their 
blankets. 


1 78  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
FRANK'S  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES. 

FRANK'S  sudden  appearance  created  con- 
siderable of  a  commotion  in  the  camp,  for  the 
men  sprang  to  their  feet  and  reached  rather 
hurriedly  for  their  weapons.  They  were  evi- 
dently alarmed ;  and  Frank  was  a  good  deal 
surprised  thereat,  for  he  had  not  dreamed  that 
men  accustomed  to  the  dangers  of  the  prairie 
— as  these  undoubtedly  were — could  be  fright- 
ened at  the  sudden  approach  of  a  single 
bewildered  horseman.  He,  however,  rode 
straight  up  to  the  fire,  where  the  men  stood 
with  their  rifles  in  their  hands,  and  exclaimed, 
as  he  dismounted  from  his  horse: 

"  Good  evening,  gentlemen !  " 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  179 

His  politeness  did  not  serve  to  allay  the  fears 
of  the  men,  for  they  regarded  him  sharply  for 
a  moment,  and  then  one  of  them  asked,  in  a 
voice  that  somewhat  resembled  the  growl  of 
an  enraged  bear: 

"  What  do  you  want?  " 

"  I  am  lost,"  replied  Frank.  "  My  horse  was 
stampeded  with  a  herd  of  buffaloes,  and  I  am 
now  making  the  best  of  my  way  back  to  my 
friends." 

The  man  slowly  surveyed  him  from  head  to 
foot,  and  then  answered,  in  a  tone  of  voice 
which  showed  that  he  did  not  believe  Frank's 
statement : 

"  Lost!  Lost,  ain't  ye?  Wai,  what  in  tarna- 
tion are  ye  lost  fur?  Why  don't  ye  go  whar  ye 
b'long?  " 

"  That's  what  I  want  to  do!  "  replied  Frank, 
who,  astonished  at  the  manner  in  which  he  was 
received,  and  fearful  that  he  would  be  com- 
pelled to  pass  another  night  alone  on  the 
prairie,  did  not  notice  the  sly,  meaning  glances 
which  the  men  exchanged.  "  I  am  trying  to 


180  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

find  my  friends.  I  left  them  at  the  '  old  bear's 
hole/  if  you  know  where  that  is." 

This  statement  was  received  with  something 
like  a  long  breath  of  relief  by  the  trappers — 
for  such  they  undoubtedly  were — and  the 
spokesman  continued: 

"  Then,  ye're  sartin  ye're  lost,  an'  that  ye 
ain't  got  no  friends  nigher  nor  the  ole  bar's 
hole?  Who  war  ye  travelin'  with?  Who's  yer 
comp'ny?  " 

"  Dick  Lewis  and  old  Bob  "Kelly,"  replied 
Frank,  mentioning  the  names  of  the  guides, 
with  the  hope  that  some  of  his  new  acquaint- 
ances might  know  them;  nor  was  the  hope  a 
\ain  one,  for  the  trappers  repeated  the 
names,  and  again  exchanged  those  sly  glances, 
which  Frank  noticed  but  could  not  under- 
stand : 

"  So  ole  Bob  is  yer  comp'ny,"  said  his  ques- 
tioner, at  length;  "an'  ye're  sartin  ye  left  him 
at  the  ole  bar's  hole !  Then,  ye  won't  be  likely 
to  set  eyes  on  him  to-night,  'cause  the  bar's 
hole  ar'  a  good  fifty  mile  from  here,  an',  if 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  181 

ye're  actooally  an'  sartinly  lost,  ye  ain't  no 
ways  likely  to  find  it  in  the  dark." 

The  trapper  was  evidently  forgetting  his 
fears  and  recovering  his  good  nature — if  he 
possessed  that  quality — for,  as  he  resumed  his 
seat  at  the  fire,  he  continued,  in  a  somewhat 
milder  tone: 

"  If  yer  hoss  war  stampeded,  stranger,  he 
must  be  powerful  lively  on  his  legs  to  have  tuk 
ye  so  fur;  but,  I  reckon,  ye  must  be  travelin' 
a  leetle  out  of  yer  latitude.  It  ain't  often  that 
a  feller  meets  a  teetotal  stranger  in  these  parts 
what  says  he's  lost,  an'  we  don't  like  to  take  in 
every  one  as  comes  along;  but,  if  so  be  that  ye 
are  a  friend  of  Dick  an'  ole  Bob,  ye  can  hobble 
yer  hoss  an'  camp  here  with  us.  Ye  can  sleep 
by  our  fire  to-night,  an'  in  the  mornin'  we'll 
set  yer  on  the  right  track." 

Frank  gladly  complied  with  this  invitation, 
and,  after  relieving  his  horse  of  the  saddle,  he 
seated  himself  at  the  fire,  and  began  to  make 
a  close  examination  of  his  new  acquaintances. 
They  were  all  large,  muscular  men,  and  were 


1 82  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

dressed  in  complete  suits  of  buckskin,  which 
were  very  ragged  and  dirty.  Their  faces  were 
almost  covered  with  thick,  bushy  whiskers, 
and  their  hair,  which,  judging  by  its  tangled 
appearance,  had  never  been  made  acquainted 
with  a  comb,  hung  down  to  their  shoulders. 
The  man  who  had  acted  the  part  of  spokesman, 
was  particularly  noticeable,  being  more  ragged 
and  dirty  than  his  companions,  and  his  face, 
which  bore  several  ugly  scars,  was  almost  as 
black  as  a  negro's. 

In  short,  they  were  a  very  ferocious  looking 
set,  and  Frank  almost  wished  he  had  remained 
on  the  prairie  instead  of  coming  to  their  camp. 
But,  after  all,  he  might  be  very  much  mistaken 
in  his  men.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
persons  of  their  calling,  who  had  no  doubt 
lived  on  the  prairie  from  boyhood,  who  had 
been  exposed  to  all  kinds  of  weather,  and 
braved  innumerable  dangers,  it  could  not  be 
expected  that  such  men  should  always  present 
a  neat  appearance.  Beneath  their  rough  ex- 
terior there  might  be  hidden  the  warmest  of 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  183 

hearts.  And  as  for  their  reception  of  hinir 
they  had  doubtless  treated  him  as  they  treated 
every  stranger  they  met  on  the  prairie — on  the 
principle,  "  Believe  every  man  an  enemy,  until 
he  proves  himself  otherwise." 

"While  these  thoughts  were  passing  through 
Frank's  mind,  the  trappers  had  been  regard- 
ing him  closely  and  with  evident  curiosity. 

The  result  of  their  examination  appeared  to 
be  satisfactory,  for  the  spokesman  presently 
remarked : 

"  It's  plain,  stranger,  that  yer  out  of  yer 
callin'.  Ye  don't  b'long  on  the  prairy.  Yer 
from  the  States,  we  take  it." 

Frank  replied  that  he  was,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  give  the  trappers  an  account  of  the 
circumstances  that  had  brought  him  to  the 
prairie,  and  also  told  how  he  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Dick  and  old  Bob;  to  all  of 
which  the  men  listened  eagerly,  now  and  then 
exchanging  the  same  sly  glances  that  Frank 
had  before  noticed.  When  he  had  finished  his 
story,  the  swarthy  trapper  arose  to  his  feet, 


184  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

and,  going  to  a  tree  close  by,  took  down  a 
piece  of  buffalo  meat,  from  which  he  cut  sev- 
eral slices  that  he  placed  on  the  coals,  remark- 
ing as  he  did  so : 

"  Whenever  we  do  meet  a  stranger  in  these 
parts,  an'  he  turns  out  to  be  the  right  kind  of 
a  chap,  we  allers  treat  him  as  handsome  as 
we  know  how.  We  can't  offer  you  anything 
more'n  a  chunk  of  buffaler  hump,  but  sich  as 
we  have  yer  welcome  to." 

The  offer  was  evidently  made  in  all  sincer- 
ity, and  if  Frank  still  entertained  any  fears 
that  the  men  were  not  what  they  should  be,  he 
speedily  dismissed  them,  and  again  blessed 
his  lucky  stars  that  he  was  not  compelled  to 
pass  another  night  alone  on  the  prairie. 

While  his  supper  was  cooking,  he  was  again 
plied  with  questions,  the  most  of  them  relating 
to  the  movements  of  old  Bob;  and  especially 
did  the  trappers  seem  anxious  to  learn  where 
he  was  going,  and  what  he  intended  to  do  when 
he  returned  from  California.  Frank  answered 
these  questions  as  well  as  he  could,  and  his  re- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  185 

plies  seemed  to  satisfy  the  men,  one  of  whom 
finally  changed  the  subject  of  the  conversa- 
tion, by  remarking: 

"  I'll  allow  that's  a  fine  shootin'  iron  of 
your'n,  stranger,  but  it's  a  new-fangled  con- 
sarn,  I  should  say." 

Frank,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  Archie's 
rifle,  which,  being  a  breech-loading  weapon, 
was  something  the  trappers  had  never  seen  be- 
fore, and  it  required  considerable  explanation 
to  enable  them  to  understand  "  how  the  con- 
sarn  worked." 

From  his  rifle  they  went  to  the  other  articles 
of  his  "  kit."  The  contents  of  his  haversack 
were  examined,  the  qualities  of  his  hunting- 
knife  and  revolvers  discussed,  and  then  they 
turned  their  attention  to  his  horse — made  in- 
quiries concerning  his  speed  and  bottom, 
until,  weary  with  their  questioning,  they 
stretched  themselves  out  by  the  fire  and  went 
to  sleep. 

After  eating  his  supper,  Frank  followed 
their  example;  and,  being  completely  ex- 


1 86  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

hausted,  having  scarcely  closed  his  eyes  during 
the  preceding  night,  he  slept  soundly  until 
morning. 

AA'hen  he  awoke  it  was  just  daylight.  The 
trappers  had  already  arisen ;  the  fire  had  been 
replenished,  and  several  slices  of  meat  were 
broiling  on  the  coals. 

They  hardly  noticed  Frank;  the  only  reply 
his  polite  greetings  received,  being  a  sort  of 
grunt  and  a  slight  nod  of  the  head.  After 
washing  his  hands  and  face  in  the  creek  that 
ran  close  by — a  proceeding  which  the  trap- 
•  pers  regarded  with  undisguised  contempt — he 
seated  himself  at  the  fire  with  the  others  and 
began  helping  himself  to  the  meat,  at  the  same 
time  inquiring  the  way  to  the  old  bear's  hole. 

"  That  ar'  is  the  way,  stranger,"  replied  the 
swarthy  trapper,  pointing  in  a  direction  ex- 
actly contrary  to  the  one  Frank  had  pursued 
the  day  before ;  "  an',  as  I  told  ye  last  night, 
it's  nigh  on  to  fifty  miles  off." 

After  this,  they  again  relapsed  into  silence, 
and  as  soon  as  they  had  finished  their  break- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  187 

fast,  went  out  to  catch  their  horses.  Frank 
accompanied  them ;  all  his  old  fears  that  there 
was  something  wrong,  revived  with  redoubled 
force,  and  he  was  anxious  to  leave  the  com- 
pany of  his  new  acquaintances  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. When  he  had  caught  and  saddled  Pete, 
he  left  him  standing  for  a  few  moments,  until 
he  secured  his  rifle  and  haversack,  and  when  he 
turned  to  mount,  he  saw  one  of  the  trappers 
seize  the  horse  by  the  bridle  and  spring  into 
the  saddle.  Frank  gazed  in  surprise  at  these 
movements,  but  before  he  could  speak,  the 
swarthy  trapper  turned  suddenly  upon  him, 
exclaiming: 

"  Look  a  here,  stranger!  Ye  come  here  last 
night  without  nobody's  askin'  ye,  an'  tells  us 
some  kind  of  a  story  'bout  yer  bein'  lost,  an' 
all  that.  Now,  mebbe  yer  all  right,  an'  mebbe 
ye  ain't.  Ye  may  have  friends  no  great  way 
off,  that  ye  kalkerlate  to  bring  down  on  us; 
but  ye  can't  ketch  old  foxes  like  us  in  no  sich 
trap  as  that  ar'.  We're  jest  goin'  to  take  yer 
hoss  to  keep  yer  from  find  in'  yer  friends  ag'in 


1 88  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

in  a  hurry.  Yer  young  fur  sicli  bisness  as  this 
yere,  an'  if  ye  didn't  look  so  mighty  innercent, 
I'd  split  yer  wizzen  fur  ye.  So  now  be  off  to 
onct,  an'  don't  never  cross  our  trail  ag'in.  If 
ye  do — "  The  trapper  finished  the  sentence 
by  shaking  his  head  threateningly. 

Frank  listened  to  this  speech  in  utter  be- 
wilderment. He  could  scarcely  believe  his 
ears.  But  it  was  plain  that  the  trappers  were 
in  earnest,  for  the  one  who  had  mounted  Pete 
held  his  own  horse  by  the  bridle,  in  readiness 
to  start.  He  fully  realized  his  helpless  situa- 
tion, and  it  almost  overpowered  him.  But,  at 
length,  he  found  courage  to  say : 

"  You  are  certainly  mistaken.  I  am  lost. 
I  don't  know  where  to  go  to  find  my  friends, 
and,  if  you  take  my  horse  from  me,  I  may 
never  find  them  again.  Besides,  what  is  your 
object  in  robbing  me?  " 

"  Wai,  now,  stranger,"  said  the  trapper, 
dropping  the  butt  of  his  rifle  to  the  ground, 
and  leaning  upon  the  muzzle  of  the  weapon, 
"  we  jest  ain't  a  goin'  to  stand  no  foolin'.  We 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  189 

<?'lieve  yer  a  spy,  an'  ar'  goin'  to  bring  Bob 
Kelly  an'  the  rest  of  yer  friends  down  on  us. 
That's  jest  what's  the  matter.  The  prairy  is 
cl'ar,  thar  ain't  no  Injuns  to  massacree  ye;  ye 
have  a  good  pair  of  legs,  so  trot  off  on  'em  to 
onct.  Ye  can  be  glad  enough  that  we  didn't 
tie  ye  up  to  a  tree,  an'  leave  ye  to  the  wolves. 
If  ole  Kelly  could  get  his  hands  on  us,  we'd 
be  used  a  heap  wusser  nor  robbin',  an'  you 
know  it  well  enough.  An'  when  ye  see  the  ole 
chap,  ye  can  tell  him  that  the  next  time  he 
wants  to  try  to  ketch  Black  Bill,  he'll  have  to 
get  up  a  better  trick  nor  this  yere.  Come, 
now,  mizzle — sally  out  to  onct — an'  don't  stop 
to  talk,  'cause  it  won't  do  no  arthly  good  what- 
somever.  Yer  hoss  is  gone — that's  settled — 
an',  if  yer  shootin'  iron  were  any  'count,  we'd 
a  tuk  that  too.  We've  left  ye  three  loads,  an' 
that'll  kill  game  enough  to  do  ye  till  ye  find 
yer  friends.  Come,  walk  off — make  yourself 
skeerce,  sudden." 

There  was  a  wicked,  determined  look  in  the 
trapper's  eye  that  told  Frank  that  he  was  in 


1 90  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

earnest;  and,  fully  convinced  that  it  would  be 
useless  to  remonstrate,  and  fearful  that  if  he 
did  not  obey  the  order,  the  man  would  fulfil 
his  threat  of  tying  him  to  a  tree,  and  leaving 
him  to  the  mercy  of  the  wolves,  he  shouldered 
his  rifle,  and,  with  a  heavy  heart,  set  off  on  his 
journey. 

When  he  reached  the  top  of  a  high  swell, 
about  half  a  mile  from  the  camp,  he  looked 
back,  and  saw  the  trappers  riding  off  at  a 
rapid  gallop,  Pete  playing  and  prancing  with 
his  new  rider  as  if  he  was  perfectly  satisfied 
with  the  change.  Frank  watched  them  as  long 
as  they  remained  in  sight,  and  then,  throwing 
himself  on  the  ground,  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands,  and  gave  way  to  the  most  bitter 
thoughts.  What  could  have  induced  the  trap- 
pers to  act  so  treacherously?  Did  they  really 
suspect  him  of  being  a  spy,  or  was  that  merely 
an  excuse  to  rob  him  in  his  defenseless  situa- 
tion? The  whole  transaction  was  involved  in 
a  mystery  he  could  not  fathom,  nor  was  it  at 
all  probable  that  he  could  arrive  at  a  solution 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  191 

until  he  should  see  Dick  or  old  Bob  Kelly. 
Would  he  ever  see  them  again,  was  a  question 
he  dare  not  ask  himself.  The  chances  were  cer- 
tainly not  in  his  favor,  situated  as  he  was, 
alone,  in  the  midst  of  an  unbroken  wilderness, 
the  prairie  stretching  away,  on  one  hand,  as 
far  as  his  eye  could  reach,  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains looming  up  on  the  other.  But  he  was 
not  one  to  look  altogether  upon  the  dark  side 
of  the  picture.  It  had  a  bright  side  as  well, 
and  he  found  that  he  had  reason  to  con- 
gratulate himself  that  the  outlaws — for  such 
he  now  knew  them  to  be — had  let  him  off  so 
easily.  What  if  they  had  left  him  bound  to 
a  tree,  as  they  had  threatened?  The  chances 
were  not  one  in  a  hundred  that  he  would  ever 
have  been  released.  Although  his  horse  had 
been  taken  from  him,  he  had  been  allowed  to 
go  free,  and  to  retain  his  rifle  and  hunting- 
knife.  Yes,  his  situation  might  have  been  in- 
finitely worse.  He  still  had  much  to  be  grate- 
ful for,  and,  as  long  as  he  had  life,  he  would 
cherish  the  hope  of  being  able  to  find  his  way 


Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

to  his  friends.  As  these  thoughts  passed 
through  his  mind,  they  brought  renewed 
strength  and  determination,  and,  rising  to  his 
feet,  he  again  set  out  at  a  brisk  walk. 

He  remembered  that  the  outlaws  had  told 
him  that,  in  order  to  reach  the  old  bear's  hole, 
he  must  travel  in  a  direction  exactly  opposite 
to  the  one  he  was  pursuing;  but  he  had  good 
reason  to  believe  that  they  had  endeavored  to 
mislead  him.  When  he  took  his  involuntary 
ride,  he  was  careful  to  remember  the  points  of 
the  compass,  and,  as  Pete  had  carried  him  ex- 
actly south,  of  course,  in  order  to  reach  his 
friends,  he  must  travel  north.  He  had  no  com- 
pass, but  the  sun  was  just  rising,  and  he  was 
able  to  calculate  all  the  points  from  that. 
Having  settled  this  to  his  satisfaction,  he  be- 
gan an  examination  of  his  haversack,  and 
found  that  its  contents  had  been  thoroughly 
overhauled — no  doubt  while  he  was  asleep — 
and  that  the  outlaws  had  left  him  three  car- 
tridges for  his  rifle,  and  his  flint  and  steel. 
All  the  other  articles,  which  consisted  of  sev- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  193 

eral  rounds  of  ammunition  for  his  revolvers 
(which  had  gone  off  with  his  horse),  stone  ar- 
row-heads, spear-heads,  the  claws  of  the  bear 
that  Dick  had  killed  in  the  cave,  and  numerous 
other  relics  which  Archie  had  collected  since 
leaving  St.  Joseph,  had  all  been  abstracted. 

In  spite  of  his  unpleasant  situation,  Frank 
could  not  repress  a  smile,  when  he  thought 
how  indignant  his  cousin  would  be,  when  he 
received  an  account  of  his  losses.  Having  com- 
pleted his  examination,  and  placed  his  remain- 
ing cartridges  carefully  away  in  his  pocket, 
he  resumed  his  journey,  and,  just  as  he  reached 
the  top  of  a  swell,  he  discovered  a  horseman 
galloping  rapidly  along  the  edge  of  the  wil- 
lows that  fringed  the  base  of  the  mountains. 
The  thought  that  he  saw  something  familiar, 
about  both  the  horse  and  his  rider,  had 
scarcely  passed  through  Frank's  mind,  when 
he  was  electrified  by  the  sight  of  a  large 
brindle  dog,  which  ran  in  and  out  of  the 
bushes,  with  his  nose  close  to  the  ground, 
now  and  then  uttering  an  impatient  bark, 


194  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

which  was  answered  by  yells  of  encourage- 
ment from  the  horseman.  There  was  no  mis- 
taking that  yell,  and  Frank  ran  down  the 
swell,  swinging  his  hat,  and  endeavoring  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  man  with  a  voice 
which,  in  his  excitement,  he  could  scarcely 
raise  above  a  whisper.  But  he  was  discovered. 
Both  dog  and  horseman  turned  toward  him, 
and,  a  moment  afterward,  Frank  had  one  arm 
around  the  neck  of  Useless,  and  his  hand  was 
inclosed  in  the  trapper's  vice-like  grasp. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  195 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  TRADER'S  EXPEDITION. 

"  DICK,"  exclaimed  Frank,  as  soon  as  he 
could  speak,  "  this  is  the  second  time  you  have, 
found  me  when  lost ;  but  I  wish  you  had  come 
a  little  sooner,  for " 

"  You  keerless  feller !  "  interrupted  the  trap- 
per, who  knew  in  a  moment  that  there  was 
something  wrong,  "you  teetotally  keerless  fel- 
ler! whar's  you  hoss?  Tell  me,  to  onct,  what's 
come  on  him." 

"  He  was  stolen  from  me,"  answered  Frank. 
"  I  camped  last  night  about  two  miles  from 
here,  with  a  party  of  trappers,  and  they 
robbed  me." 

"  Did !  "  exclaimed  Dick.  "  Bar  and  buf- 
faler!  who  war  they?  They  warn't  no  trap- 


196  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

pers,  I  can  tell  ye,  if  they  done  that  ar'  mean 
trick.  Tell  me  all  about  it  to  onct." 

Frank  then  proceeded  to  relate  all  that  had 
transpired  at  the  camp;  told  how  closely  the 
men  had  questioned  him  concerning  the  in- 
tended movements  of  old  Bob ;  repeated  all  the 
threats  which  the  outlaw  had  made,  and  con- 
cluded his  narrative  with  saying: 

"  He  told  me  that  when  I  saw  old  Bob  again, 
I  could  say  to  him,  that  the  next  time  he 
wanted  to  catch  Black  Bill,  he— 

"  Black  Bill !  "  almost  yelled  the  trapper. 
"Black  Bill!  That  ar'  tells  the  hul  story. 
The  scoundrel  had  better  steer  cl'ar  of  me  an' 
old  Bob,  'cause  I'm  Bob's  chum  now,  an'  any 
harm  that's  done  to  him  is  done  to  me  too.  I 
can  tell  you,  you  keerless  feller,  you  oughter 
be  mighty  glad  that  you  ain't  rubbed  out  alto- 
gether." 

"I  begin  to  think  so  too,"  replied  Frank; 
"  but,  Dick,  I  want  my  horse." 

"  Wai,  then,  you'll  have  to  wait  till  he  comes 
to  you,  or  till  them  ar'  fellers  git  ready  to  fetch 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  197 

him  back.  'Tain't  no  'arthly  use  to  f oiler  'em, 
'cause  they'll  be  sartin  to  put  a  good  stretch 
of  country  atween  them  an'  ole  Bob  afore  they 
stop.  Your  hoss  ar'  teetotally  gone,  youngster 
—that's  as  true  as  gospel.  I  tell  you  ag'in, 
'tain't  every  one  that  Black  Bill  let's  off  so 
easy.  Climb  up  behind  me,  an'  let's  travel 
back  to  the  ole  bar's  hole." 

Frank  handed  his  rifle  to  his  companion, 
mounted  Sleepy  Sam,  and  the  trappers  drove 
toward  the  camp,  slowly  and  thoughtfully. 
For  nearly  an  hour  they  rode  along  without 
speaking  to  each  other.  Dick,  occasionally 
shaking  his  head  and  muttering  "  Bar  an'  buf- 
faler — you  keerless  feller."  But  at  length  he 
straightened  up  in  the  saddle,  and  holding  his 
heavy  rifle  at  arm's  length,  exclaimed : 

"  Youngster,  I  don't  own  much  of  this 
world's  plunder,  an'  what's  more,  I  never  ex- 
pect to.  But  what  little  I  have  got  is  of  use 
to  me,  an'  without  it  I  should  soon  starve. 
But  I'd  give  it  all  up  sooner  nor  sleep  in  a 
camp  with  Black  Bill  an'  his  band  of  rascals. 


198  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

I'd  fight  'em  now  if  I  should  meet  'em,  an'  be 
glad  of  the  chance;  but  thar's  a  heap  of  differ- 
ence atween  goin'  under,  in  a  fair  skrirnmage, 
an'  bein'  rubbed  out  while  you  ar'  asleep. 
Durin'  the  forty  year  I've  been  knocked 
about,  I've  faced  a'most  every  kind  of  danger 
from  wild  Injuns  an'  varmints,  an'  I  never 
onct  flinched — till  I  rid  on  them  steam  rail- 
roads— but,  youngster,  I  wouldn't  do  what 
you  done  last  night  fur  nothin'.  Howsomever, 
the  danger's  all  over  now,  an'  you  have  come 
out  with  a  hul  skin ;  so  tell  me  what  you  done 
while  you  war  lost." 

The  manner  in  which  the  trapper  spoke  of 
the  danger  through  which  he  had  passed,, 
frightened  Frank  exceedingly.  He  knew  that 
Dick  was  as  brave  as  a  man  could  possibly  be, 
and  the  thought  that  he  had  unconsciously  ex- 
posed himself  to  peril  that  the  reckless  trap- 
per would  shrink  from  encountering,  occa- 
sioned feelings  of  terror,  which  could  not  be 
quieted  even  by  the  knowledge  that  he  had 
passed  the  ordeal  with  safety;  and  when,  in 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  199 

compliance  with  the  guide's  request,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  relate  his  adventures,  it  was  with  a 
trembling  voice,  that  could  not  fail  to  attract 
the  trapper's  attention. 

"  I  don't  wonder  you're  skeered,"  said  he, 
as  Frank  finished  his  story.  "  It  would  skeer 
o'most  anybody.  But  it's  over,  now,  an'  it 
ain't  no  ways  likely  you'll  ever  meet  'em  ag'in. 
Me  an'  ole  Bob  will  see  'em  some  day,  an'  when 
we  settle,  with  'em,  we  will  be  sartin  to  take 
out  pay  fur  that  hoss.  When  we  git  to  camp 
Bob'll  tell  you  how  he  happens  to  owe  Black 
Bill  a  settlement.  When  we  seed  you  goin' 
off  in  that  ar'  way,"  continued  the  trapper, 
turning  around  in  his  saddle  so  as  to  face 
Frank,  "  we  didn't  feel  no  ways  skeery  'bout 
your  comin'  back  all  right,  if  you  got  away 
from  the  buffalers.  Your  uncle  said,  t  In 
course  the  boy  has  got  sense  enough  to  see 
that  the  mountains  now  ar'  on  his  right  hand, 
an'  to  know  that  when  he  wants  to  come  back, 
he  must  keep  them  on  his  left  hand;'  an'  jest 
afore  we  went  to  sleep,  I  heered  him  say  to 


200  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

ole  Bob,  '  I  wonder  how  Frank  is  gettin'  on 
without  his  blanket'  Your  little  cousin  said, 
*  I  hope  he'll  fetch  back  my  rifle,  an'  my  pos- 
sible-sack, an'  the  things  what's  in  it,  all  right, 
'cause  I  should  hate  to  lose  them  Injun's  top- 
knots.' I  guess  he  won't  laugh  none,  when  he 
finds  out  that  all  them  stone  arrer-heads,  an' 
spear-heads,  an'  other  fixin's  ar'  gone.  Ole 
Bob,  he  knowed,  too,  that  you  would  turn  up 
all  right  if  you  could  keep  on  your  hoss  till  he 
stopped.  But,  bar  and  buffaler!  we  didn't 
think  you  war  goin'  to  camp  with  that  varlet, 
Black  Bill.  If  we  had,  thar  wouldn't  have 
been  much  sleepin'  done  in  our  camp  last 
night." 

Having  thus  assured  Frank  that  his  friends 
had  entertained  no  fears  of  his  ability  to  find 
his  way  back  to  the  wagon,  the  trapper  again 
alluded  to  the  subject  of  the  robbery,  obliging 
his  young  companion  to  relate  the  particulars 
over  and  over  again,  each  time  expressing  his 
astonishment  and  indignation  in  no  very  meas- 
ured terms.  In  this  way  they  passed  the  fif- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  201 

teen  miles  that  lay  between  them  and  the 
camp,  and  finally  arrived  within  sight  of  the 
"ole  bar's  hole.*' 

Mr.  Winters,  Archie,  and  Bob  were  seated 
on  the  ground  near  the  wagon,  but  when  they 
discovered  the  trapper  riding  toward  them 
with  Frank  mounted  behind  him,  they  rose  to 
their  feet  in  surprise,  and  Archie  inquired,  as 
he  grasped  his  cousin's  hand — 

"  Did  your  horse  run  himself  to  death?" 
Before   Frank  could  answer,  Dick  sprang 
from  the  saddle,  exclaiming: 

"  Bob !  Black  Bill's  on  the  prairy." 
"  Black  Bill  on  the  prairy ! "  repeated  the 
old  man,  slowly,  regarding  his  friend  as  if  he 
was  hardly  prepared  to  believe  what  he  had 
heard. 

"  Yes,  he  ar'  on  this  yere  very  prairy,"  re- 
plied Dick ;  "  an',  Bob,"  he  continued,  stretch- 
ing his  brawny  arms  to  their  fullest  extent  in 
front  of  him,  and  clenching  his  huge  fists,  "  an', 
Bob,  that  ar'  keerless  feller  actooally  camped 
with  him  an'  his  rascally  chums,  last  night. 


202  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Yes,  sir,  stayed  in  their  camp  an'  slept  tharr 
an'  this  mornin'  they  said  as  how  he  war  a  spy 
of  your'n,  sent  to  ketch  'em ;  so  they  stole  his 
hoss." 

Old  Bob  was  so  astonished  at  this  intelli- 
gence, that  he  almost  leaped  from  the  ground ; 
while  Dick,  without  allowing  the  excited 
listeners  an  opportunity  to  ask  a  question, 
seated  himself  beside  Mr.  Winters  and  pro- 
ceeded to  give  a  full  account  of  all  that  had 
transpired  at  Black  Bill's  camp;  during 
which,  Archie,  surprised  and  indignant  at  the 
treatment  his  cousin  had  received,  learned 
that  he  also  had  been  a  heavy  loser  by  the 
operation.  All  his  beloved  relics  were  gone. 
But  they  still  had  miles  of  Indian  country  to 
traverse,  and  these  could  be  replaced;  while 
Frank,  in  being  robbed  of  his  horse  had  sus- 
tained a  loss  that  could  not  be  made  good. 
Archie  was  generous;  and,  declaring  that 
he  had  ridden  on  horseback  until  he  was 
actuary  tired  of  it,  told  his  cousin  to  con- 
sider Sleepy  Sam  as  his  own  property,  an  offer 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  203 

which    the    latter    emphatically    refused    to 
accept 

"  Never  mind,  youngster,"  said  old  Bob, 
who  had  listened  to  all  that  had  passed  be- 
tween the  cousins,  "  never  mind.  You  shan't 
lose  nothin'  by  bein'  robbed  by  that  varlet. 
Me  an'  Dick  will  put  you  on  hossback  ag'in 
afore  you're  two  days  older.  But  this  yere 
shows  you  that  you  oughtn't  to  make  friends 
with  every  feller  you  meet  on  the  prairy,  no 
more'n  you  would  in  a  big  city.  Now  if  you 
war  lost  in  the  settlements,  and  didn't  know 
whar  to  go  to  find  your  hum,  you  would  think 
twice  afore  you  would  camp  with  a  teetotal 
stranger,  an'  a  feller  oughter  do  the  same 
thing  on  the  prairy.  I  larnt  that  long  ago,  an' 
through  that  same  feller,  Black  Bill.  Years 
ago,  when  Dick's  old  man  war  alive,  it  warn't 
so.  If  a  feller  got  a  leetle  out  of  his  reckonin', 
an'  walked  into  a  stranger's  camp,  he  could 
roll  himself  up  in  his  blanket  an'  sleep  as  safe 
an'  sound  as  he  could  any  whar,  an'  neither 
man  warn't  afraid  that  the  other  would  rub 


2O4  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

him  out  afore  daylight.  But  it  ain't  so  now. 
Them  fellers  in  the  settlements  got  to  doin' 
meanness,  an'  run  here  to  git  cl'ar  of  the  laws. 
But  they  found  thar  war  law  here  too;  an' 
when  they  done  any  of  their  badness,  an'  we 
got  our  hands  on  'em,  we  made  short  work 
with  'em.  But  they  kept  comin'  in  fast,  and 
when  three  or  four  of  'em  got  together,  they 
would  take  to  the  mountains,  an'  thar  warn't 
no  use  tryin'  to  ketch  'em.  When  we  seed 
how  things  war  agoin',  a  lot  of  us  ole  trap- 
pers, that  had  knowed  each  other  fur  years, 
made  up  a  comp'ny.  We  had  to  do  it  to  de- 
fend ourselves  ag'in  them  varlets,  fur  it  soon 
got  so  it  warn't  healthy  fur  a  lone  man  on  the 
prairy,  if  he  had  any  plunder  wuth  baggin'. 
We  stuck  together  till  that  Saskatchewan 
scrape,  an'  now  me  an'  Dick  ar'  the  only  ones 
left.  I  don't  say  that  we're  the  only  honest 
trappers  agoin',  'cause  that  ain't  so.  Thar  ar' 
plenty  of  good  ones  left ;  but  we  ar'  the  last  of 
our  comp'ny,  an',  somehow,  we  don't  keer  'bout 
trappin'  with  strangers. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  205 

"  Wai,  one  spring  we  went  to  the  fort  to 
trade  off  the  spelter  we  had  ketched  durin' 
the  winter,  an'  the  trader  we  sold  'em  to,  war 
makin'  up  a  comp'ny  to  go  to  the  head  waters 
of  the  Missouri.  He  war  goin'  with  his  expedi- 
tion, an'  he  wanted  us  to  go  too.  He  offered 
ns  good  pay ;  he  would  find  us  we'pons,  bosses, 
traps,  and  provender  fur  nothin',  an'  buy  our 
furs  to  boot.  He  done  this  'cause  thar  war  a 
good  many  traders  workin'  ag'in  him,  an'  he 
wanted  to  be  sartin  of  gittin'  all  the  furs  we 
trapped.  We  had  a  leetle  talk  among  our- 
selves about  it,,  an',  finally,  told  him  that  it 
war  a  bargain,  an'  that  we  would  go.  So  he 
writ  down  our  names,  an'  we  tuk  up  our  quar- 
ters in  the  fort  till  the  day  come  to  start.  The 
trader's  name  war  Forbes,  an'  as  he  war  our 
boss,  we  used  to  call  him  Cap'n  Forbes.  He 
warn't  jest  the  kind  of  a  man  a  feller  would 
take  to  be  a  trader — he  smelt  too  much  of  the 
settlements — an'  even  at  the  fort,  among  rougli 
trappers  an'  soldiers,  he  would  spruce  up  an' 
strut  like  a  turkey.  'Sides,  he  had  a  nigger 


206  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

to  wait  on  him  an'  take  keer  of  his  hoss.  As 
I  war  sayin',  we  noticed  all  these  things,  but 
we  didn't  keer  fur  'em,  fur,  in  course,  it  warn't 
none  of  our  consarn;  all  we  wanted  war  fur 
him  to  pay  us  fur  the  spelter  we  ketch ed,  an' 
we  knowed  he  could  do  that,  fur  the  fellers 
all  said  he  had  a  big  pile  of  gold  an'  silver  that 
he  carried  in  his  saddle-bags. 

"  Wai,  we  packed  our  blankets  an'  we'pons 
down  to  the  quarters  the  cap'n  pointed  out, 
an'  when  we  got  tbar,  we  found  he  had  half 
a  dozen  chaps  down  'sides  ourselves.  We 
knowed  one  or  two  of  'em,  (an'  we  didn't  know 
nothin'  good  of  'em  neither,)  but  the  others 
war  strangers  to  us.  Among  the  strangers 
\\Sir  Black  Bill — Bosh  Peters  he  said  his  name 
war.  He  war  a'most  as  black  as  the  cap'n's 
darkey,  an'  thar  war  a  bad  look  in  his  eye  that 
none  of  us  didn't  like.  An'  him  an'  his  crowd 
warn't  at  all  pleased  to  see  us,  neither;  fur, 
although  they  met  us  kind  enough,  asked  us1 
to  help  ourselves  to  their  grub,  an'  inquired 
'bout  our  luck  in  trappin',  durin'  the  last  sea- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  207 

son,  thar  war  somethin'  'bout  them  that  told 
us  plainer  nor  words  that  they  would  have 
been  much  better  satisfied  if  we  had  stayed 
away. 

"  It  war  a'most  night  when  we  went  to  the 
quarters,  an'  arter  we  had  eat  our  supper,  we 
smoked  our  pipes,  spread  our  blankets,  an' 
went  to  sleep.  How  long  I  slept  I  don't  know ; 
but  I  waked  up  sometime  durin'  the  night,  an' 
thought  I  heered  somebody  talkin'  in  a  low 
voice.  I  listened,  an',  sure  enough,  thar  war 
two  fellers  jest  outside  of  the  quarters 
plannin'  somethin*.  I  heered  one  of  'em  ask: 

"'When  shall  we  do  it?' 

" '  Time  enough  to  think  of  that  when  we  git 
to  the  mountains,'  said  the  other. 

" '  But  ar'  you  sartin'  he's  goin'  to  take  it 
with  him?' 

"  '  In  course!    I  heered  him  say  so! ' 

" '  Wai,  then,  it's  all  right.  But  we  must 
be  mighty  keerful,  'cause  our  boys  don't  like 
the  looks  of  them  last  fellers  that  jined  the 
comp'ny.  So  keep  a  still  tongue  in  your  head.' 


208  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

They  done  some  more  plannin'  and  talkin',  but 
I  couldn't  hear  what  it  war.  Then  they  moved 
away  in  different  directions,  an'  purty  quick 
somebody  come  into  the  quarters,  easy  like, 
an'  laid  down  on  his  blanket,  but  it  war  so 
dark  I  couldn't  see  who  it  war.  Wai,  I 
thought  the  matter  all  over,  an'  soon  made  up 
my  mind  that  the  varlets  had  been  plannin'  an' 
talkin'  ag'in  the  trader  and  his  money-bags; 
but  when  I  told  the  boys  of  it  the  next  niornin', 
they  all  laughed  at  me,  an'  said  the  cap'n 
warn't  fool  enough  to  tote  so  much  money  to 
the  mountains  with  him  when  he  could  leave 
it  at  the  fort,  whar  it  would  be  safe.  They 
told  me  I  had  better  not  speak  of  it  ag'in,  fur 
if  it  got  to  the  trader's  ears,  he  might  think  I 
war  a  greeny.  Wai,  I  war  quite  a  youngster, 
that's  a  fact;  but  it  warn't  long  afore  it  come 
out  that  I  had  more  sense  nor  any  of  'em. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  209 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE. 

"  BEFORE  goin'  further,"  continued  the  trap- 
per, "  I  oughter  tell  you  that  this  Black  Bill 
had  been  on  the  prairy  a  long  time.  Like  a 
good  many  others,  he  had  run  away  from  the 
law  in  the  States,  an',  fallin'  in  with  more 
rascals  as  bad  as  he  war,  he  soon  made  him- 
self known,  by  name,  to  nearly  every  trapper 
in  the  country.  'Sides  robbin'  lone  men  he  met 
on  the  prairy  an'  in  the  mountains,  he  would 
jine  in  with  Injuns,  an'  lead  'em  ag'in  wagon 
trains. 

"  None  of  our  comp'ny  had  ever  seed  him, 
although,  in  course,  we  had  often  heered  of 
him,  an'  we  never  onct  thought  that  he  would 
have  the  face  to  jine  in  with  a  party  of  honest 


2io  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

trappers;  so  we  called  him  Peters,  bein'  very 
fur  from  thinkin'  that  he  war  the  feller  that 
had  done  so  much  mischief.  If  we  had  knowed 
who  he  war,  prairy  law  wouldn't  have  let  him 
live  five  minits. 

"  Wai,  arter  we  had  been  at  the  fort  'bout 
two  weeks,  Cap'n  Forbes  got  everything  ready 
fur  the  start,  an',  one  mornin',  bright  an'  'arly, 
•we  sot  off  t'wards  the  mountains.  Thar  war 
fourteen  of  us  altogether — seven  of  us  fellers, 
five  of  Bosh  Peters'  party,  the  trader,  and  his 
darkey.  We  had  four  pack  mules ;  and,  as  the 
Cap'n  warn't  a  bit  stingy,  he  had  give  us  good 
we'pons  an'  plenty  of  powder  an'  lead.  I 
hadn't  forgot  what  them  two  fellers  said  that 
night,  although  I  hadn't  never  spoke  about  it, 
fur  fear  of  bein'  laughed  at — an'  I  kept  close 
watch  on  the  trader,  to  find  out  if  he  had  his 
money  with  him.  He  carried  a  pair  of  saddle- 
bags, an'  they  were  well  packed,  too;  but, 
judgin'  by  the  keerless  way  he  throwed  them 
around,  when  we  camped  fur  the  night,  thar 
warn't  no  money  in  'em.  Bosh  Peters  and  his 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  211 

party  had  all  along  been  tryin'  to  git  on  the 

- 

right  side  of  us,  and  purty  soon  our  fellers 
begun  to  think  that  we  had  been  fooled  in  'em, 
an'  that  they  war  all  right  arter  all. 

"  Wai,  when  we  reached  the  trappin' 
grounds,  we  built  our  quarters  fur  the  winter, 
an'  then  commenced  work.  The  trader  went 
with  one  feller  one  day,  an'  with  another  the 
next.  He  warn't  no  trapper;  but  he  liked  the 
sport,  an'  seemed  to  want  to  larn  how  it  war 
clone.  But,  arter  awhile  he  got  tired  of  this, 
an'  stayed  in  the  camp  from  mornin'  till  night. 
He  never  went  out  with  me;  if  he  had,  I  should 
have  told  him  to  keep  his  eye  on  them  money- 
bags, if  he  had  'em  with  him. 

"  One  day,  as  I  war  at  work  settin'  a  trap  in 
a  clump  of  bushes  that  grew  on  the  banks  of  a 
little  creek,  I  heered  some  fellers  comin1  along, 
talkin'  to  each  other.  Now,  jest  that  one  little 
thing  war  enough  to  make  me  b'lieve  that  thar 
war  somethin'  wrong  in  the  wind,  'cause,  when 
fellers  go  out  to  hunt  an'  trap,  an'  fur  nothin' 
else,  they  don't  go  together  through  the  woods, 


212  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

as  though  they  were  huntin'  cows.  So  I  sot 
still  an'  listened,  an'  purty  quick  heered  Bosh 
-  Peters  talkin'.  Thar  war  one  feller  with  him, 
but  the  bushes  war  so  thick  I  couldn't  see  him, 
an'  I  didn't  know  his  voice.  They  war  comin' 
right  t'wards  me,  an'  when  they  reached  the 
creek,  one  of  'em  went  to  get  a  drink,  an'  the 
others  sot  down  on  a  log  not  ten  foot  from  me. 
Purty  soon  I  heered  Bosh  Peters  say: 

" '  I  know  it's  time  we  war  doin'  something 
Tom,  but  I'm  a'most  afraid  to  try  it.  Them  'ar 
fellers  are  seven  to  our  five,  an'  if  we  shouldn't 
happen  to  get  away,  we  would  ketch  prairy 
law,  sartin;  an'  that's  a  heap  wusser  nor  law 
in  the  settlements.  They  don't  give  a  feller  a 
chance  to  break  jail  on  the  prairy.' 

"  '  Black  Bill,'  said  the  other,  l  thar's  jest  no 
use  a  talkin'  that  'ar  way.  If  we're  a  goin'  to 
do  it  at  all,  now  is  jest  as  good  a  chance  as  wre 
shall  have.  The  cap'n  stays  in  the  camp  all 
day  alone,  an'  afore  the  other  chaps  get  back  to 
larn  what's  done,  we  can  be  miles  in  the  moun- 
tains.' 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  213 

" '  Wai,  then,'  said  Black  Bill,  <  let's  do  the 
job  to  onct.  The  cap'n  war  in  the  camp  this 
mornin'  when  I  left,  an'  if  he's  thar  this  arter- 
noon,  we'll  finish  him,  an'  the  money-bags  are 
curn.  But  let's  move  off;  it  won't  do  fur  us  to 
be  seed  together.' 

"  The  varlets  walked  away,  an'  I  lay  thar  in 
them  bushes  fifteen  minutes  afore  I  stirred. 
This  war  the  fust  time  that  I  kuowed  Black 
Bill  war  one  of  our  comp'ny.  To  say  that  I 
war  surprised  to  hear  it,  wouldn't  half  tell  how 
I  felt.  I  war  teetotally  tuk  back.  The  idea  of 
that  feller  comin'  into  our  camp,  when  he 
knowed  that  if  he  war  found  out,  short  work 
would  be  made  with  him!  I  could  hardly 
b'lieve  it.  But  I  couldn't  lay  thar,  foolin' 
away  time  with  such  thoughts,  when  I  knowed 
that  the  cap'n's  life  war  in  danger.  So, 
thinkin'  the  rascals  had  got  out  of  sight  an' 
hearin',  I  crawled  out  of  the  bushes,  intendin' 
to  start  at  onct  fur  the  camp,  an'  tell  the  fel- 
lers what  I  had  jest  heered.  I  walked  down  to 
the  creek  fust,  to  get  a  drink,  an'  jest  as  I  war 


214  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

bendin'  over,  I  heered  the  crack  of  a  rifle;  a 
bullet  whistled  by,  not  half  an  inch  from  my 
head,  an'  buried  itself  in  the  ground.  I 
jumped  to  my  feet,  an'  lookin'  up  the  bank, 
saw  a  leetle  smoke  risin'  from  behind  a  log  not 
twenty  yards  distant.  Grabbin'  my  rifle, 
which  I  had  laid  down  as  I  war  goin'  to  drink, 
I  rushed  acrost  the  creek,  an'  the  next  mini  I; 
war  standin'  face  to  face  with  Black  Bill.  Fur 
an  instant  the  chap  shook  like  a  leaf,  an' 
turned  as  pale  as  his  black  skin  would  let  him. 
Then  he  seemed  to  find  his  wits  ag'in,  fur  he 
stuck  out  his  hand,  sayin' : 

" «  By  gum,  Bob  Kelly!  is  that  you?  I'll  be 
shot  if  I  didn't  take  you  fur  an  Injun.  I'm 
mighty  glad  I  didn't  hit  you,  Bob ! ' 

"  <  You  can't  blarney  me,  Black  Bill,'  said  I. 
'  I  know  you ; '  an'  as  I  stood  thar  lookin'  at 
the  rascal,  an'  thought  of  all  the  badness  he 
had  done,  I  had  half  a  mind  to  shoot  him.  The 
way  of  it  war,  the  varlet  kind  o'  thought  that 
somebody  had  been  listenin'  to  what  he  said 
'bout  robbin'  the  cap'n,  an'  he  had  hid  behind 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  215 

the  log  to  watch.  When  he  seed  me  come  out 
of  the  bushes,  he  knowed  that  I  had  heered  all 
that  had  been  goin'  on,  an'  he  thought  his  best 
plan  war  to  leave  me  thar  dead.  "But,  although 
he  warn't  twenty  yards  off  when  he  fired  at  mer 
he  missed  me  teetotally.  JVal,  when  he  seed 
that  I  knowed  him,  an'  that  he  couldn't  fool  me 
into  b'lievin'  that  he  tuk  me  fur  an  Injun,  he 
thought  he  could  skeer  me,  so  he  growled: 

" '  If  you  know  me,  Bob  Kelly,  you  know  a 
man  that  won't  stand  no  nonsense.  I  have 
friends  not  fur  off,  an'  if  you  know  anything, 
you'll  travel  on  'bout  your  own  bisness." 

" '  Now,  look  a  here,  Black  Bill,'  said  I,  <  I 
hain't  never  been  in  the  habit  of  standin'  much 
nonsense,  neither — leastways  not  from  such 
fellers  as  you,  an'  if  you  knowed  me,  you  would 
know  that  I  don't  skeer  wuth  a  charge  of  gun- 
powder. That  'ar  is  the  way  to  the  camp,  an' 
if  you  want  to  live  two  minutes  longer,  you'll 
travel  off  at  onct.'  Seein'  that  he  didn't  start, 
but  that  he  stood  eyein'  me  as  if  he'd  a  good 
mind  to  walk  into  me,  I  stepped  back,  an' 


216  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

p'intin'  my  rifle  straight  at  his  heart,  said :  '  I 
shan't  tell  you  more'n  onct  more  that  'ar  is 
the  way  to  camp.  You  can  go  thar,  or  you  can 
stay  here  fur  the  wolves,  jest  as  you  please.' 

"  I  guess  he  seed  that  I  war  in  'arnest,  fur 
lie  shouldered  his  empty  rifle,  an'  started 
through  the  woods,  I  follerin'  close  behind, 
ready  to  drop  him  if  he  should  run  or  show 
fight.  I  felt  mighty  oneasy  while  travelin' 
through  that  timber,  'cause  I  knowed  well 
enough  that  the  rascal  had  friends,  an'  if  one 
of  'em  should  happen  to  see  me  marchin'  Black 
Bill  off  that  'ar  way,  he'd  drop  me,  sartin. 
But  I  reached  the  camp  in  safety,  an'  thar  I 
found  two  of  our  own  fellers,  an'  four  that  I 
had  allers  thought  war  friends  of  Black  Bill. 
They  all  jumped  up  as  we  came  in,  fur  they 
knowed  by  the  way  I  looked  that  somethin' 
war  wrong,  an'  one  of  'em  said : 

"  <  What's  Bosh  Peters  been  a  doin',  Bob?  ' 

"  <  That  ain't  no  Bosh  Peters,'  said  I ;  '  that 
'ar  chap  is  Black  Bill.' 

"  Now  comes  the  funniest  part  of  the  hul 


• 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  217 

bisness.  Every  trapper  on  the  prairy,  as  I  told 
you,  had  heered  of  Black  Bill,  an'  when  I  told 
'em  that  my  prisoner  war  the  very  chap,  an' 
that  he  had  been  layin'  a  plan  to  rob  the  cap'n, 
I  never  seed  sich  a  mad  set  of  men  in  my  life. 
"  They  all  sot  up  a  yell,  an'  one  of  'em,  that 
I  would  have  swore  war  a  friend  of  Black  Bill, 
d rawed  his  knife,  an'  made  at  the  varlet  as  if 
he  war  goin'  to  rub  him  out  to  onct.  But  my 
chum,  Ned  Roberts,  ketched  him,  and  tuk  the 
we'pon  away  from  him.  This  sot  the  feller  to 
bilin',  and  he  rushed  round  the  camp  wusser 
nor  a  crazy  man.  He  said  that  Black  Bill  had 
shot  his  chum,  an'  that  he  war  swore  to  kill 
him  wherever  he  found  him;  and  he  war  goin' 
to  do  it,  too.  An'  the  fust  thing  we  knowed, 
he  grabbed  somebody's  rifle,  an'  jumped  back 
to  shoot  the  pris'ner.  But  he  war  ketched 
ag'in,  afore  he  could  fire,  and  then  he  howled 
wusser  nor  ever.  Wai,  we  tied  Black  Bill  to  a 
tree  in  the  camp,  an'  this  feller  kept  slippin' 
round,  with  his  tomahawk  in  his  hand,  an'  it 
tuk  two  men  to  get  the  we'pon  away  from  him. 


218  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

"  The  chap  tuk  on  so,  that  we  all  thought 
that  he  told  the  truth,  but,  (would  you  believe 
it?)  I  arterwards  larnt  that  he  war  the  very 
>ame  chap  that  I  had  heered  talkin'  with  Black 
Bill  'bout  robbin'  the  cap'n.  He  kind  o' 
thought  that  we  might  know  something  ag'in 
him,  an'  he  carried  on  in  that  way  to  make  us 
b'lieve  that  he  war  really  an  enemy  of  Black 
Bill.  In  course  we  didn't  know  this  at  the 
time.  If  we  had,  he'd  soon  been  a  pris'ner  too. 
But,  supposin'  him  to  be  tellin'  the  gospel 
truth,  we  felt  sorry  fur  him,  an'  promised  that 
Black  Bill  shouldn't  ever  be  let  loose  to  do 
meanness  ag'in.  While  the  fuss  war  goin'  on, 
the  trader  come  out;  an'  when  we  told  him 
what  happened — how  the  pris'ner  an'  one  of 
his  friends,  that  we  didn't  know,  had  been 
layin'  a  plan  to  do  robbery  an'  killin' ;  an'  that 
the  chap  he  called  Bosh  Peters  war  none  other 
than  Black  Bill  the  outlaw — I  never  seed  a 
man  so  tuk  back  in  my  life.  It  skeered  him 
purty  bad.  He  had  allers  looked  upon  Black 
Bill  as  one  of  the  honestest  men  in  the  expedi- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  219 

tion;  an',  when  he  found  that  he  war  a  traitor, 
lie  didn't  know  who  to  trust ;  an'  he  tuk  mighty 
good  keer  not  to  be  alone  durin'  the  rest  of  the 
arternoon. 

"  Wai,  when  it  growed  dark,  the  fellers  be- 
gan to  come  in  from  their  day's  work,  some 
loaded  with  furs,  an'  others  with  a  piece  of  bar 
or  big-horn,  which  they  had  knocked  over  for 
supper.  As  fast  as  they  come  in,  we  told  'eni 
what  war  up,  an'  they  didn't  take  it  very  easy, 
now,  I  tell  you. 

"  The  idee  that  Black  Bill,  arter  doin'  so 
much  badness — robbin'  lone  trappers  an' 
leadin'  wild  Injuns  ag'in  wagon  trains — 
should  come  into  one  of  our  forts,  an'  stick  his 
name  down  with  those  of  honest,  hard-workin' 
trappers,  when  he  knowed  that  every  one  of 
'em  had  plenty  ag'in  him,  I  say  it  war  hard  to 
b'lieve.  But  thar  he  war,  tied  to  a  tree,  an', 
when  the  boys  come  to  look  at  him  close,  they 
wondered  that  they  hadn't  knowed  afore  that 
he  war  a  villain. 

"  Wai,  we  waited  a  long  time  for  all  of  our 


22O  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

fellers  to  come  in;  but  thar  war  three  of  us 
missin',  an'  that  war  the  only  thing  that  saved 
Black  Bill.  We  didn't  want  to  pass  sentence 
on  him  without  lettin'  all  the  boys  have  a 
chance  to  say  somethin';  an'  as  they  might 
come  in  some  time  durin'  the  night,  we  thought 
we  would  keep  the  varlet  till  morning.  So  we 
tied  him,  hand  an'  foot,  and  laid  him  away  in 
one  of  the  cabins.  The  cap'n's  darkey  made 
him  a  bed  of  hemlock  boughs,  an'  laid  him  on 
it,  abusin'  him  all  the  while  like  all  natur',  an* 
goin'  in  for  shootin'  him  to  onct.  It  would 
have  been  well  for  one  of  us,  if  we  had  put  that 
darkey  in  there  as  a  pris'ner  too.  But  we 
didn't  know  it,  an'  afore  we  got  through  he 
cost  us  the  life  of  one  of  the  best  men  in  our 
comp'ny.  The  fellers  then  all  went  to  bed  ex- 
cept me.  I  guarded  the  varlet  till  the  moon 
went  down,  and  then,  arter  calling  my  chum, 
who  war  to  watch  him  till  daylight,  I  went 
into  my  quarters  an'  slept  soundly  all  the  rest 
of  the  night.  When  it  come  mornin',  I  awoke, 
an',  in  a  few  minits,  all  our  boys  war  up.  The 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  221 

fellers  had  all  come  in  durin'  the  night,  an'  ole 
Jim  Roberts — my  chum's  ole  man — who  war 
our  leader,  called  a  council.  Black  Bill  didn't 
seem  to  have  a  friend  among  us,  for  the  last 
man  of  us  said  as  how  the  law  must  be  lived 
up  to. 

"  *  Who  guarded  him  last  night?  '  asked  the 
ole  man. 

" '  I  did,'  I  answered,  '  till  the  moon  went 
down,  and  then  Ned  tuk  my  place.' 

"  i  Wai,  Ned,  bring  out  the  pris'ner,'  said  the 
ole  man.  '  But  whar  is  Ned?'  he  asked,  rnn- 
nin'  his  eye  over  the  camp.  'Ned!  Ned 
Roberts ! ' 

"  I  had  all  along  s'posed  that  Ned  war  still 
guardin'  the  pris'ner;  but  when  he  didn't 
answer,  I  knowed  in  a  minit  that  somethin' 
had  been  goin'  wrong  ag'in,  an'  the  others 
knowed  it  too,  fur  men  who  have  lived  in  dan- 
ger all  their  lives  ain't  long  in  seein'  through  a 
thing  of  that  kind.  So  we  all  rushed  to  the 
cabin  where  we  had  left  the  outlaw,  an'  there 
lay  my  chum — stark  an'  dead — stabbed  to  the 


222  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

heart!  The  pris'ner  war  gone.  Thar  war  the 
strips  of  hickory  bark  we  had  tied  him  with, 
an'  thar  war  the  knife  he  had  used — but  Black 
Bill  had  tuk  himself  safe  off.  We  stood  thar, 
not  knowin'  what  to  say  or  do.  Ole  Jim  war 
the  fust  that  could  speak. 

"  '  Another  gone,'  said  he ;  '  an'  it's  my  only 
son;  an'  now  whar's  the  traitor? ' 

"  He  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  us  as  he 
said  this,  b.ut  no  one  answered. 

"  *  He's  here  right  among  you,'  said  the  ole 
man,  the  tears  rollin'  down  his  cheeks.  '  He's 
right  among  you.  That  knife  couldn't  got  in 
here  without  hands;  an  'thar's  somebody  in 
this  yere  camp,  that's  helped  Black  Bill  in 
makin'  his  escape.  Speak,  men,  who's  the  out- 
law's friend?' 

"  But  still  no  one  answered.  We  all  knowed 
he  war  thar,  but  how  could  we  tell  who  it  war, 
when  we  had  no  proof  ag'in  any  one? 

"  '  Bring  him  out,  boys,'  said  the  old  man,  at 
last  '  He  war  a  kind  son,  an'  a  good  trapper. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  223 

But  he's  done  his  work  now,  an'  we've  lost  one 
of  the  best  men  in  our  comp'ny.' 

"  Wai,  we  carried  poor  Ned  out,  an'  arter 
layin'  him  in  my  cabin,  we  started  off  on  the 
trail  of  the  outlaw.  But  he  had  a  good  long 
start,  an'  that  night  we  had  to  come  back  with- 
out him.  I've  never  seen  him  from  that  day 
to  this. 

"  The  next  mornin'  none  of  us  went  out  to 
trap,  fur  we  couldn't  help  thinkin'  of  poor  Ned. 
He  war  the  fust  chum  I  had  ever  had,  an'  me 
an'  him  had  been  together  a'most  ever  since  we 
had  strength  to  shoulder  a  rifle — more'n  ten 
year — an',  in  course,  I  war  in  natur'  bound  to 
avenge  him.  I  stayed  in  my  quarters,  wonderin' 
who  it  war  that  had  helped  the  outlaw;  when, 
all  of  a  sudden,  I  happened  to  think  of  some- 
thin'  that  brought  me  to  my  feet  in  a  hurry,  an' 
sent  me  into  ole  Jim's  quarters.  I  talked  the 
matter  over  with  him,  told  him  what  I  thought, 
an',  in  a  few  minits  more,  we  called  our  boys 
together,  an'  war  marchin'  towards  the  trader's 
camp.  The  darkey  war  cookin'  his  master's 


224  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

breakfast,  in  front  of  the  cabin,  singin'  an' 
whistlin'  as  jolly  as  could  be;  but  when  he  seed 
us  a  comin'  he  shet  up  in  a  mighty  hurry,  an' 
actooally  turned  white!  I  knowed  he  wouldn't 
act  that  ar'  way  if  he  warn't  guilty,  so  I  sung 
out,  '  Here's  the  traitor,  boys! ' 

"  The  darkey,  seein'  that  the  thing  war  out, 
started  to  run.  He  hadn't  gone  far,  how- 
somever,  afore  we  had  him,  an'  then  he  'fessed 
the  hul  bisness.  He  said  he  had  told  the 
outlaw  that  the  cap'n  war  goin'  to  take  his 
money-bags  with  him,  an'  that,  bein'  the 
last  to  leave  Black  Bill  arter  we  had  tied 
him,  he  had  hid  the  knife  in  his  bed.  The 
pris'ner's  arms  had  been  fastened  above  his 
elbows,  an',  in  course,  havin'  a  sharp  we'pon, 
it  war  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  cut  him- 
self loose,  an'  to  pitch  into  poor  Ned  afore  he 
knowed  it.  Arter  he  had  'fessed  this,  we  held 
a  council,  an'  prairy  law  tuk  its  course.  This 
skeered  the  trader  wusser  nor  ever.  If  his  own 
servant  war  treacherous,  he  couldn't  trust  no- 
body. So  he  ordered  us  to  break  up  our  camp 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  225 

an'  strike  fur  the  fort  When  we  got  thar,  an' 
offered  to  give  up  our  bosses  an'  weapons,  he 
wouldn't  listen  to  it  at  all.  He  said  that  we 
had  saved  him  an'  his  money-bags,  an'  that  we 
could  keep  our  kit,  an'  welcome. 

"  Wai,  our  huntin'  expedition  bein'  broke  up, 
we  put  out  on  our  own  hook.  We  still  thought 
that  them  four  fellers  b'longed  to  Black  Bill's 
party,  an'  we  soon  found  that  it  war  so;  fur  we 
had  hardly  got  out  of  sight,  afore  they  started 
fur  the  mountains.  They  knowed  'bout  whar 
to  go  to  find  the  outlaw,  an'  they've  been  with 
him  ever  since,  robbin'  an'  stealin'.  One  of  his 
party  has  ben  rubbed  out,  but  thar  ar'  four  of 
them  left  yet,  an'  they  do  a  heap  of  mischief. 
I  have  looked  an'  watched  fur  'em  fur  years,  an' 
if  I  never  find  'em,  I  shall  leave  'em  to  Dick; 
so  I  know  justice  will  be  done  'em.  If  you  had 
knowed  all  these  things,  youngster,  I  don't 
reckon  you  would  have  slept  very  sound  in 
Black  Bill's  camp." 


226  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE  KING  OP  THE  DROVE. 

THE  travelers  had  been  intensely  interested 
in  the  old  trapper's  story,  and  not  even  the 
thought  that  the  danger  was  passed,  and  that 
Frank  was  safe  in  camp  again,  could  alto- 
gether quiet  their  feelings.  Frank  was  more 
astonished  than  ever,  and  he  secretly  deter- 
mined that  he  would  never  again  lose  sight  of 
the  wagon,  if  he  could  avoid  it.  But,  if  he 
should  again  be  compelled  to  take  an  involun- 
tary ride,  and  should  happen  to  fall  in  with 
strangers  on  the  prairie,  he  would  give  them 
a  wide  berth. 

Mr.  Winters  said  nothing.  He  did  not  think 
that  the  occasion  demanded  that  he  should 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  227 

caution  his  nephew,  for  it  was  by  no  means 
probable  that  the  latter  would  soon  forget 
his  night  in  the  outlaw's  camp. 

His  adventures,  which  were  the  subject  of  a 
lengthy  conversation,  did  not,  however,  en- 
tirely quench  his  love  of  excitement,  and  when, 
after  a  hearty  dinner  on  buffalo  hump,  Archie 
proposed  a  short  ride  on  the  prairie,  he  agreed 
to  accompany  him,  and,  as  soon  as  he  had 
caught  and  saddled  his  uncle's  horse,  was 
ready  for  the  start.  As  they  rode  along  out  of 
the  woods,  Archie  informed  his  cousin  that  an- 
other herd  of  buffaloes  had  been  seen  that 
morning  by  old  Bob,  feeding  near  the  base  of 
the  mountains,  and  announced  his  determina- 
tion of  endeavoring  to  shoot  one,  if  they  should 
happen  to  come  across  them.  As  there  was 
now  no  danger  of  being  stampeded — both  of 
their  horses  being  old  buffalo  hunters — Frank 
agreed  to  the  proposal,  and  followed  his  cousin, 
who  led  the  way  toward  the  place  where  the 
buffaloes  had  last  been  seen.  Swell  after  swell 
they  mounted,  straining  their  eyes  in  every 


228  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

direction,  without  discovering  the  wished-for 
game. 

But  they  saw  something  else  that  excited 
them  quite  as  much  as  the  sight  of  a  herd  of 
buffaloes  would  have  done;  for,  as  Archie,  who 
had  ridden  some  distance  in  advance  of  his 
cousin,  reached  the  top  of  one  of  the  hills, 
Frank  saw  him  suddenly  draw  rein,  and  back 
his  horse  down  the  swell,  out  of  sight  of  some- 
thing which  he  had  discovered  on  the  other 
side.  He  then  rode  back  to  meet  Frank,  and, 
as  soon  as  he  came  within  speaking  distance, 
whispered,  excitedly: 

"  There's  a  big  drove  of  wild  horses  out 
there." 

Frank  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but,  throwing 
his  bridle  to  his  cousin,  dismounted  from  his 
horse,  and,  going  cautiously  to  the  top  of  the 
swell,  looked  over.  Sure  enough,  there  they 
were,  about  half  a  mile  distant,  probably  five 
hundred  of  them,  scattered  about  over  the 
prairie,  some  feeding,  and  others  prancing 
about,  as  if  wholly  unconscious  of  clanger. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  229 

Among  them  was  one  horse — an  iron-gray— 
rendered  conspicuous  by  his  great  size  and  ex- 
traordinary beauty,  which  galloped  about  as  if 
he  were  "  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed."  Frank 
remembered  what  Dick  had  told  him  about 
every  drove  of  wild  horses  having  a  "  master," 
and,  as  he  watched  his  movements,  and  noticed 
how  the  other  horses  shied  at  his  approach,  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  gray  horse  was 
the  king.  He  gazed  at  them  for  some  time, 
admiring  their  rapid,  graceful  movements,  and 
thinking  how  fully  the  gray  would  supply  the 
place  of  the  horse  he  had  lost,  when  he  noticed 
that  the  animals  were  feeding  directly  toward 
him.  Fearful  of  being  discovered,  he  crawled 
back  down  the  swell,  and  rejoined  his  cousin. 

"  What  shall  we  do?  "  asked  the  latter,  ex- 
citedly. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  Dick  could  catch  one  of 
those  fellows?  "  inquired  Frank. 

"  Of  course  he  could,''  answered  Archie, 
quickly.  "  Didn't  he  catch  that  black  mustang 
he  told  us  about — a  horse  that  everybody  had 


230  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

tried  to  catch,  and  couldn't?  Let's  go  back, 
and  ask  him  to  try." 

The  boys  hastily  remounted,  and  started  for 
the  camp  as  fast  as  their  horses  could  carry 
them.  Archie,  of  course,  led  the  way,  and,  as 
he  dashed  up  to  the  wagon,  he  threw  himself 
from  the  saddle,  exclaiming: 

"  Dick,  there's  a  drove  of  wild  horses  out 
there  on  the  prairie.  Jump  on  Sam,  and  go 
and  catch  one  for  Frank." 

"  That's  the  same  drove  I  seed  day  afore  yes- 
terday,'1 said  old  Bob,  "  an'  that's  what  I 
meant  when  I  told  Frank  we'd  put  him  on 
hossback  ag'in  afore  he  war  two  days  older. 
Ketch  my  hoss,  Dick." 

Dick  did  as  he  was  desired,  and,  by  this 
time,  Frank  had  come  up,  Archie,  in  his  eager- 
ness, having  left  him  far  behind. 

"  Did  you  skeer  'em,  youngsters?  "  asked  old 
Bob,  as  he  went  to  the  wagon  and  drew  out 
two  rawhide  lassos,  one  of  which  he  handed  to 
Dick. 

"  No,"  replied  Frank.    "  They  didn't  see  us. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  231 

Dick,  catcli  the  king — he's  a  large  iron-gray — 
the  prettiest  horse  in  the  drove.  If  I  could 
have  him,  I  would  be  glad  I  lost  Pete." 

"  Wai,  now,  that  ar'  will  be  a  hard  thing  to 
do,  youngsters,"  replied  the  trapper,  coiling 
up  his  lasso,  and  hanging  it  on  the  horn  of  his 
saddle;  "  a  mighty  hard  thing  to  do.  Them  ar' 
kings  ar'  allers  the  swiftest  hosses  in  the 
drove;  an'  it  ain't  every  ole  buffaler  hunter 
that  can  keep  up  with  'em." 

Archie  was  astonished  to  hear  the  trapper 
speak  so  lightly  of  Sleepy  Sam,  a  horse  that 
had  several  times  proved  himself  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  great  speed ;  but  Dick  hastened  to  ex- 
plain. 

"  I  ain't  savin'  nothin'  ag'in  your  hoss,  little 
one,  no  more'n  I  am  ag'in  Bob's.  But  if  you 
had  chased  wild  hosses  as  often  as  I  have,  you 
would  know  that  a  hoss  can  beat  anything  in 
a  wagon  train,  an'  yet  have  no  bisness  with  the 
king  of  a  drove.  I  won't  say  that  we'll  ketch 
that  gray  fur  you,  Frank,  but  we'll  try  hard, 
an'  if  he  is  too  fast  fur  us,  we'll  lasso  one  of 


232  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

the  others,  sartin.  We'll  bring  back  somethin' 
fur  you  to  ride." 

By  this  time  the  trappers  were  ready  for  the 
start,  Mr.  Winters  and  the  boys  accompanied 
them  to  the  edge  of  the  prairie,  and  there  Bob 
and  Dick  left  them,  after  repeatedly  assuring 
Frank  that  it  was  not  their  intention  to  return 
empty-handed. 

When  they  had  disappeared,  Mr.  Winters 
and  the  boys  seated  themselves  on  the  ground, 
and  for  nearly  an  hour,  waited  and  listened  for 
the  sound  of  the  pursuit.  Suddenly  a  single 
liorse  appeared  upon  the  summit  of  a  distant 
swell,  and  facing  about,  stood  as  if  regarding 
some  object  that  had  excited  his  curiosity. 
Then  came  another,  and  another,  and  in  a 
moment  more  the  entire  drove  appeared,  run- 
ning at  the  top  of  their  speed.  One  minute 
elapsed — two — three — and  then  two  more 
horses  suddenly  arose  over  the  swell,  and  fol- 
lowed swiftly  after  the  drove.  The  chase  had 
begun  in  earnest.  The  boys  were  surprised, 
and  not  a  little  discouraged,  to  see  the  trap- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  233 

pers  so  far  behind.  But  still  they  had  great 
confidence  in  them,  and  Frank  was  already 
reconciled  to  the  loss  of  his  horse,  and  confi- 
dent that  he  would  own  another  before  he  went 
to  sleep  th*t  night.  The  chase  was  tending 
directly  toward  the  mountains,  and  it  pre- 
sented a  sight  the  boys  would  have  been  loth 
to  miss.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  wild 
steeds,  prancing  and  snorting,  and  looking 
back  at  the  strange  objects  that  were  pursuing 
them.  Presently,  among  the  foremost  ones, 
the  boys  discovered  the  gray  king.  He  moved 
over  the  ground  as  lightly  as  if  he  had  been 
furnished  with  wings,  and  as  Frank  watched 
his  movements,  he  reluctantly  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  if  his  endurance  was  as  great  as 
his  speed,  he  must  content  himself  with  one  of 
the  common  horses  of  the  drove.  They  con- 
tinued to  advance  until  they  came  within  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  willows,  when  they 
seemed,  for  the  first  time,  to  discover  that  their 
retreat  in  that  direction  was  cut  off  by  the 
mountains.  This  appeared  to  confuse  and 


234  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

frighten  them.  The  foremost  ones  slackened 
their  speed,  but  seeing  their  pursuers  close  be- 
hind them,  the  drove  suddenly  divided,  part  of 
the  horses  turning  one  way,  and  the  rest  going 
the  other.  The  trappers  had  kept  their  eyes  on 
the  king,  and,  when  he  turned,  they  singled 
him  out  from  the  others,  and  followed  him  with 
increased  speed.  The  gray  mustang  made  an 
exhibition  of  his  powers  that  was  truly  sur- 
prising ;  but  the  trappers  took  a  "  short  cut " 
on  him,  and  gained  so  rapidly  that  Frank's 
hopes  rose  again.  Sleepy  Sam  was  running 
splendidly ;  but,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  old  Bob's 
ungainly,  raw-boned  horse,  in  answer  to  a  yell 
from  his  rider,  bounded  past  him.  All  this 
happened  in  much  less  time  than  we  have  taken 
to  describe  it.  The  horses  moved  with  wonder- 
ful rapidity,  and,  in  a  very  few  moments  after 
the  drove  divided,  the  gray  king  and  the  trap- 
pers were  out  of  sight  behind  the  swells,  and 
all  sounds  of  the  chase  had  died  away  in  the 
distance. 

Mr.   Winters   then   returned   to   the   camp, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  235 

while  the  excited  boys  again  seated  themselves 
on  the  ground,  and  waited  long  and  impati- 
ently for  the  trappers'  return.  The  hours 
slowly  wore  away,  and,  finally,  the  sun  went 
down,  but  still  no  signs  of  the  horsemen.  It 
soon  began  to  grow  dark,  and  the  boys  were 
obliged  to  return  to  the  wagon.  Frank  pre- 
pared supper  that  evening,  but  their  appetites 
must  have  gone  off  with  the  gray  mustang,  for 
they  ate  but  little.  They  sat  beside  the  fire 
until  midnight,  straining  their  ears  to  catch 
the  first  sounds  of  the  trappers'  return;  but 
nothing  but  the  occasional  howl  of  a  wolf 
broke  the  stillness;  and,  finally,  growing  tired 
of  watching,  they  spread  their  blankets  and 
went  to  sleep.  At  the  first  peep  of  day  they 
were  again  stirring,  and,  after  a  hasty  break- 
fast, they  stationed  themselves  in  the  edge  of 
the  willows,  to  await  the  return  of  the  horse- 
men. In  about  two  hours  their  patience  was 
rewarded  by  the  discovery  of  several  objects 
moving  along  the  summit  of  a  distant  swell. 
As  they  approached,  the  boys  recognized  the 


236  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

trappers,  and  in  half  an  hour  they  were  within 
speaking  distance.  Could  Frank  believe  his 
eyes?  Was  Dick  really  riding  the  gray  king? 
It  was  a  horse  that  bore  a  strong  resemblance 
to  him,  and  Frank  felt  confident  that  the  ani- 
mal he  had  so  much  admired,  was  really  his 
own.  Nor  was  he  deceived ;  for,  as  they  came 
up,  Dick  exclaimed : 

"  Here  we  ar',  youngsters.  We've  got  him, 
sure  as  shootin'.  Easy  thar,"  he  continued,  as 
the  delighted  boys  walked  slowly  around  him, 
admiring  his  fine  points.  "  If  you  know  any- 
thing you'll  keep  cl'ar  of  his  heels.  He  ain't 
very  good  natur'd.*' 

This  was  very  evident;  for  the  trapper  had 
scarcely  spoken  before  the  mustang  began  to 
show  his  temper.  He  danced  about  in  the  most 
lively  manner;  first  rearing  up  almost  straight 
in  the  air,  and  then  kicking  with  both  hind 
feet.  His  plunges  were  furious  and  desperate, 
and  the  boys  fully  expected  to  see  the  trapper 
unseated.  But  the  latter,  although  he  had  no 
saddle — that  being  a  contrivance  he  despised 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  237 

— and  only  had  his  lasso  twisted  around  the 
gray's  lower  jaw,  for  a  bridle,  kept  the  animal 
completely  under  his  control,  and  rode  him 
into  the  camp  in  triumph. 

"  The  critter  led  us  'bout  as  long  an'  as  lively 
a  race  as  we  ever  run,"  said  Dick,  after  the 
gray  had  been  securely  fastened  to  a  tree. 
"  An'  it  war  only  by  accident  that  we  ketched 
him.  I  don't  reckon  I  am  sayin'  too  much 
when  I  say  that  I  never  seed  a  boss  run  faster 
nor  hold  out  better  nor  he  did — not  even  the 
black  mustang.  "  We  went  'round  on  the 
other  side  of  the  drove  afore  wre  started  'em, 
on  purpose  to  make  'em  run  t'wards  the  moun- 
tains. That  give  you  a  good  sight  of  somethin' 
you  never  seed  afore,  an'  by  it  we  gained  on 
the  gray  when  he  turned.  Wai,  he  kept  ahead 
of  us  for  ten  or  twelve  miles,  gainin'  on  us  all 
the  while,  fur  when  he  seed  that  we  war  arter 
him  in  'arnest,  the  way  he  did  climb  over  the 
prairy  war  a  purty  thing  to  look  at — when, 
all  to  onct,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  prairy- 
dogs'  nest.  The  prairy,  as  far  as  a  feller  could 


238  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

see,  war  like  a  honey-comb.  I  'spected  every 
minit  that  my  hoss  would  break  through,  an' 
at  last  he  did.  But  the  gray  broke  in  fust — 
went  down  clean  to  the  top  of  his  legs,  an' 
couldn't  git  out.  I  war  sartin  we  had  him,  an' 
war  jest  goin'  to  throw  my  lasso,  when  my 
hoss  went  in,  an'  kerchunk  I  went  on  the 
ground.  But  ole  Bob  war  on  hand,  an'  he 
ketched  him.  We  told  you,  Frank,  that  we'd 
put  you  on  horseback  ag'in,  an'  now  that  we've 
done  it,  I  don't  reckon  you'll  lose  this  animal 
by  campin'  with  Black  Bill." 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  239 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

.  HOW  THE  TRAPPER  GOT  HIS  HORSE. 

AFTER  supper,  the  travelers  seated  them- 
selves around  the  fire,  and  the  trappers  lighted 
their  pipes.  After  smoking  a  while  in  silence, 
old  Bob  said : 

"  As  I  have  told  you  afore,  youngsters,  it 
ain't  always  a  easy  job  to  lasso  the  king  of  a 
drove  of  wild  hosses.  The  ruunin'  we  done  to- 
day arter  the  gray  warn't  nothin'  to  what  we 
kalkerlated  to  do  when  we  left  here;  an'  if  he 
hadn't  got  into  that  prairy-dogs'  nest,  thar's 
no  knowin'  how  many  miles  he  would  a  been 
from  here  by  this  time.  When  I  war  a  young- 
ster, I  went  to  the  Saskatchewan  fur  the  fust 
time,  with  a  party  of  six  trappers — Dick's  ole 
man  war  one  of  'em — an',  being  keerless,  like 


240  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

all  young  fellers,  I  soon  made  away  with  one 
of  the  best  hosses  I  ever  owned.  I  run  him 
clean  blind  arter  a  herd  of  buffaler.  I  soon 
got  another,  howsomever,  but  it  warn't  as  good 
a  one  as  I  wanted ;  an'  I  begun  to  look  around 
to  find  a  critter  that  suited  me.  One  day  I 
come  acrost  a  drove  of  wild  hosses,  an',  arter 
foolin'  round  them  fur  a  while,  I  diskivered 
that  they  were  led  by  a  chestnut-colored  critter 
— a  purty  feller — an'  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
he  war  just  the  one  I  wanted.  I  had  never 
ketched  a  wild  hoss  then,  an'  I  had  heered 
enough  about  them  to  know  that  them  kings 
ar'  allers  the  best  animals  in  the  drove,  an' 
that  it  takes  a  hoss  as  is  a  hoss  to  keep  up  with 
one  of  'em.  But  I  could  throw  the  lasso  tolible 
sharp,  an'  war  jest  'bout  that  age  when  young- 
sters think  they  know  more'n  anybody  else, 
on  'arth ;  so  I  thought  I  could  ketch  him  easy. 
Wai,  I  dodged  round  them  till  I  got  within 
'bout  half  a  mile  of  'em,  and  then  put  out  arter 
the  king;  but,  human  natur,  how  he  did  run! 
I  follered  him  'bout  four  mile,  and  then 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  241 

turned  t'ward  the  camp,  thinkin'  that  mebbe 
thar  war  a  few  things  I  didn't  know  nothin'  at 
all  'bout.  Some  days  arterward,  I  seed  him 
ag'in;  but  he  run  away  from  me  easy,  an'  I 
wont  back  to  the  camp  to  be  laughed  at  fur  my 
trouble.  But  I  knowed  that  I  should  have 
plenty  of  chances  to  ketch  him  afore  we 
started  fur  hum — we  war  to  stay  thar  till 
spring — so  I  said  nothin',  but  kept  lookin' 
round,  an'  every  time  I  seed  the  chestnut  king, 
me  an'  him  had  a  race. 

"  I  got  him  at  last — not  in  the  way  I  ex- 
pected, howsomever — an',  to  make  the  story 
plain,  I  must  tell  you  what  happened  'bout 
three  year  afore  that. 

"  I  war  born  on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri 
River,  'bout  twenty  mile  from  whar  St. 
Joseph  now  stands.  It  war  thar  my  ole  man 
fust  larnt  me  how  to  handle  a  rifle  an'  ride  a 
wild  mustang.  Thar  war  a  fort  'bout  a  mile 
from  our  cabin,  whar  the  ole  man  allers  went 
to  sell  his  furs.  It  warn't  no  ways  safe  thar, 
in  them  days,  fur  all  that  country  b'longed  to 


242  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

the  Injuns,  who  warn't  very  friendly  t'ward 
white  settlers.  But,  whenever  thar  war  any 
trouble,  we  had  a  safe  place  to  go  to,  an'  onct, 
when  I  war  only  twelve  year  ole,  I  stood  'side 
my  ole  man,  in  the  fort,  an'  helped  drive  off 
atween  four  an'  five  hundred  red-skins.  I  done 
so  well  that  ole  hunters  an'  trappers  slapped 
me  on  the  back,  sayin'  that  I  war  a  '  chip  o'  the 
ole  block,'  and  that  Fd  be  a  better  Injun- 
hunter  nor  my  father  some  day.  This  pleased 
my  ole  man,  an'  when  the  Injuns  had  gone,  he 
took  me  on  a  trappin'  expedition  with  him. 
Thar  war  four  of  us,  an'  we  war  gone  all 
winter.  I  ketched  my  share  of  the  furs,  an' 
killed  two  grizzly  bars,  which  war  something 
for  a  chap  of  my  years  to  brag  on.  \Val,  we 
reached  hum  in  the  spring,  an',  arter  I  had 
stayed  at  our  cabin  two  or  three  days,  tellin' 
my  mother  big  stories  of  wh.at  I  had  seed,  an' 
what  I  had  done,  the  ole  man  sent  me  down  to 
the  fort  to  trade  off  our  spelter.  I  ought  to 
say  that  on  our  way  hum  we  had  dodged  a 
large  part  of  Injuns  that  war  on  a  scalpin'  ex- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  243 

pedition.  They  had  been  off  a  fightin'  with  an- 
other tribe,  an',  havin'  got  thrashed,  they 
war  n't  in  very  good  humor.  I  war  afraid  they 
might  take  it  into  their  heads  to  visit  the  coun- 
try 'round  the  fort,  an'  massacree  the  settlers; 
but  the  ole  man  laughed  at  me,  an'  told  me  to 
go  'long  'bout  my  bisness,  an'  sell  them  furs. 
So,  as  I  war  sayin',  I  sot  out  fur  the  fort,  an', 
while  I  war  makin'  a  bargain  with  the  trader, 
a  trapper  came  in  on  a  hoss  that  war  a'most 
ready  to  drop,  an'  said  that  the  Injuns  war 
strikin'  fur  the  fort.  I  don't  reckon  that  they 
intended  to  come  afore  night ;  but  this  trapper 
had  got  away  from  'em,  an'  knowin'  that  he 
would  alarm  the  settlers,  the  Injuns  jest 
thought  they  would  make  a  rush,  an'  massa- 
cree men,  women,  an'  children,  afore  they 
could  reach  the  fort. 

"Wai,  I  didn'V  wait  to  hear  no  more;  but, 
grabbin'  up  my  we'pons,  started  fur  hum  arter 
the  old  folks.  Purty  quick  I  heered  a  firin'  an' 
yellin',  an'  made  up  my  mind  that  them  as 
didn't  reach  the  fort  in  less  nor  ten  niinits 


244  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

would  be  goners,  sartin,  fur  the  Injuns  war 
comin',  sure  enough.  A  little  further  on  I 
-  met  my  mother,  who  told  me  that  the  ole  man 
an'  a  few  more  of  the  settlers  war  fightin'  back 
the  Injuns  to  give  the  women  an'  young  ones 
time  to  git  safe  under  kiver.  My  mother  war 
a'most  too  ole  to  walk  so  fur,  so  I  took  her  on 
my  hoss,  and  carried  her  t'wards  the  fort,  in- 
tendin'  that  as  soon  as  I  had  seed  her  safe  I 
would  come  back  arter  the  ole  man.  But  jest 
as  I  reached  the  fort,  I  heered  a  loud  yell  in'  an' 
whoopin',  an',  lookin'  back,  I  seed  the  settlers 
comin'  out  of  the  woods,  with  the  Injuns  clost 
behind  'em.  Thar  war,  as  nigh  as  I  could 
guess,  'bout  two  hundred  red-skins,  an'  not 
more'n  twenty  white  fellers;  so,  in  course, 
thar  warn't  no  'arthly  use  to  think  of  fightin' 
in  cl'ar  open  ground.  The  settlers  war  comin' 
as  fast  as  their  bosses  could  fetch  'em,  an'  the 
Injuns  war  clost  arter  'em,  intendin'  to  kill  or 
captur'  'em  all  afore  they  could  reach  the  fort. 
I  seed  the  ole  man  among  the  settlers,  an' 
made  up  my  mind  that  he  war  safe,  fur  he  rid 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  245 

a  good  boss,  when,  all  to  onct,  be  dropped  his 
rifle,  throwed  up  his  hands,  an'  fell  from  his 
saddle.  The  settlers  kept  on;  fur,  in  course, 
they  couldn't  help  him,  an'  the  ole  man  tried 
to  foller  'em;  but  I  seed  him  pulled  down  an* 
tomahawked,  'bout  two  hundred  yards  from 
the  fort,  by  a  young  Injun,  whom,  from  his 
bar's  claws,  an'  other  fixin's,  I  tuk  to  be  a  chief. 
My  ole  shootin'  iron  war  good  fur  that  dis- 
tance, so  I  drawed  up  and  blazed  away.  But 
my  hand  trembled,  an'  I  seed  that  Injun  make 
off  with  the  ole  man's  scalp.  That  war  a  long 
time  ago,  youngsters ;  but  I  can  see  that  varlet 
yet,  an'  hear  the  yell  he  gives  as  he  shook  the 
scalp  at  us  in  the  fort,  an'  ran  back  into  the 
woods.  Of  them  twenty  men  that  war  in  the 
fight,  'bout  a  dozen  rode  safe  into  the  fort. 
The  others  war  massacreed  afore  our  very  eyes, 
an'  we  couldn't  help  'em. 

"  Wai,  the  Injuns  stayed  round  in  the  edge 
of  the  tim'er  fur  'bout  two  hours,  yellin'  an* 
firm'  at  us;  but,  knowin'  that  they  could  not 
take  the  fort — fur  they  tried  that  twice — they 


246  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

all  set  up  a  yelp  an'  put  off,  burnin'  everything 
as  they  went.  It  war  a  sad  day  fur  that  settle- 
ment. Nigh  every  family  war  mournin'  fur 
somebody;  but  I  war  wusser  off  nor  any  of 
'em.  My  mother  carried  a  heap  of  years  on  her 
shoulders,  an'  when  she  seed  the  ole  man  pulled 
down  an'  scalped,  it  gave  her  a  shock  she  never 
got  over.  We  buried  them  both  nigh  the  fort, 
an'  arter  stayin'  round  fur  a  week  or  two,  I  sot 
out  with  a  party  of  trappers  fur  our  ole  huntin' 
grounds  on  the  Saskatchewan.  I  never  forgot 
that  young  Injun,  an'  all  I  keered  fur  or 
thought  'bout,  war  to  meet  him.  I  jest  knowed 
that  I  should  find  him  ag'in  some  day,  an'  if  I 
had  met  him  among  his  tribe,  with  hundreds  of 
his  friends  standin'  round,  I  would  have 
knowed  him. 

"  Wai,  as  I  war  sayin',  I  sot  out  with  this 
party  of  trappers,  an'  it  war  on  the  Saskatch- 
ewan that  I  fust  diskivered  this  chestnut  king 
that  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  have.  I  fol- 
lered  him  a'most  all  winter,  an'  the  more  I 
seed  him  run,  the  more  I  wanted  to  ketch  him. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  247 

I  'tended  to  my  shar'  of  the  trapping  but  every 
chance  I  got  I  war  arter  them  hosses.  At  last 
they  put  off  somewhar,  an'  I  never  seed  >m 
ag'in.  I  couldn't  think  what  had  'come  on  'em, 
but  I  knowed  that  they  had  gone  clean  out  of 
the  country,  an'  that  I  should  have  to  look  fur 
another  hoss,  an'  give  up  all  hopes  of  ketchin' 
the  chestnut. 

"  When  spring  opened,  an'  it  come  good  trav- 
eling we  held  a  council,  an'  settled  it  that  we 
should  start  fur  the  fort  to  onct.  We  war  in  a 
Lurry  to  get  away,  too,  fur  some  of  our  fellers 
had  seen  Injun  sign  'bout  two  miles  from  the 
camp;  so,  one  mornin'  we  sot  out  to  gather  up 
our  traps.  I  had  'bout  five  mile  to  go  to  reach 
my  trappin'  ground,  so  I  rode  off  on  a  gallop. 
I  went  along  mighty  keerless,  fur  I  didn't 
b'lieve  what  them  fellers  had  said  'bout  seein' 
Injun  sign,  but  I  soon  larnt  that  ole  trappers 
never  get  fooled  'bout  sich  things.  I  hadn't 
gone  more'n  a  mile  from  the  camp,  when, 
whizz!  something  whistled  by  my  head,  an' 
went  chuck  into  a  tree  on  the  other  side  of  me. 


248  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

It  war  an  arrer,  an'  afore  I  could  look  round 
to  see  whar  it  come  from,  I  heered  a  yell,  an' 
the  next  minit  a  boss  popped  out  of  the  bushes, 
an'  came  t'wards  me.  An  Injun  war  on  his 
back,  an'  in  one  hand  he  carried  a  long  spear, 
an'  with  the  other  he  held  his  bow  an'  guided 
his  hoss.  As  soon  as  he  got  cl'ar  of  the  bushes, 
lie  p'inted  that  spear  straight  at  my  breast,  an' 
came  at  me,  full  jump.  I  war  a  youngster 
then.  I  hadn't  been  in  as  many  rough-an'- 
tumble  fights  with  wild  Injuns  as  I  have  been 
since,  an'  I  would  have  give  all  the  spelter  I 
had  trapped  that  winter  if  I  had  been  safe  in 
camp.  These  war  the  fust  thoughts  that  went 
through  my  mind.  But  arter  I  had  tuk  jest 
one  good  look  at  the  Injun  an'  his  hoss,  I 
wouldn't  have  been  away  from  thar  fur  notliin'. 
The  Injun  war  the  young  chief  that  had  rubbed 
out  my  ole  man,  an'  the  hoss  war  the  chest- 
nut king — the  very  one  I  had  been  try  in'  to 
ketch  fur  a'most  a  year.  So,  you  see,  I  had  two 
things  to  work  fur.  Fust,  I  had  swore  to  have 
.that  Injun's  scalp;  next,  I  wanted  that  hoss; 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  249 

an'  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  wouldn't  leave 
that  ar'  place  till  I  had  'em  both.  The  young 
chief  war  so  clost  to  me  that  I  didn't  have  time 
to  shoot,  so  I  sot  still  in  my  saddle,  an'  when 
I  seed  the  p'int  of  the  spear  'bout  two  foot 
from  my  breast,  I  stuck  out  my  rifle  an'  turned 
the  we'pon  aside.  Then,  jest  as  the  Injun  war 
goin'  by  me,  I  ketched  him  by  the  scalp-lock, 
quicker  nor  lightnin',  an'  pulled  him  from  his 
boss.  My  own  hoss  warn't  trained  wuth  a  plug 
o'  tpbacker,  an',  skeered  by  the  fuss,  an'  the  In- 
jun's yell  in',  he  give  a  jump,  an'  the  fust  thing 
I  knowed,  me  an'  the  young  chief  war  rollin' 
on  the  ground  together.  I've  had  one  or  two 
wild  savages  by  the  top-knot  since  then,  but  I 
never  got  hold  of  a  chap  of  his  size  that  war 
so  strong  an'  wiry.  When  I  fust  ketched  him, 
I  allowed  to  rub  him  out  easy,  fur  I  war  purty 
good  on  a  rough-an'-tumble,  an'  it  warn't  every- 
body that  could  take  my  measure  on  the 
ground;  but  when  I  ketched  that  Injun,  I 
found  that  I  had  come  acrost  a  varmint.  We 
fell  side  by  side,  I  all  the  while  hangin'  on  to 


250  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

his  liar;  but  afore  I  could  think  whar  I  war, 
or  what  a  doin',  I  found  the  young  chief  on 
top  of  me;  an',  both  his  hands  bein'  free,  he 
commenced  feelin'  fur  his  knife.  In  course  I 
couldn't  allow  that,  so  I  ketched  one  of  his 
arms,  which  he  twisted  ont  of  my  grasp,  as 
easy  as  though  I  had  no  strength  at  all.  I 
tried  this  two  or  three  times,  but  flndin'  that  I 
couldn't  hold  him,  I  fastened  on  his  belt  which 
held  the  knife,  an',  with  one  jerk,  tore  it  loose, 
an'  flung  it  over  my  head.  The  Injun,  findin* 
that  his  we'pon  war  gone,  whooped  an'  yelled 
wusser  nor  ever.  We  war  on  even  terms  now, 
fur  my  knife  war  under  me,  an'  neither  of  us 
could  git  at  it.  Then  I  began  tryin'  to  git  him 
off  me;  but  it  war  no  use,  an'  the  Injun  findin' 
that  I  breathed  hard,  held  still  an'  quiet, 
hopin'  that  I  would  soon  tire  myself  out,  an' 
then  he  would  have  no  trouble  in  gittin'  away 
from  me.  But  I  war  layin'  my  plans  all  this 
while,  an',  watchin'  the  Injun  clost,  I  ketched 
him  off  his  guard,  an'  went  to  work  in  'arnest. 
By  the  way  that  chap  kicked  an'  yelled,  I 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  251 

guess  he  thought  I  had  only  been  foolin'  with 
him  afore,  an'  the  way  he  did  fight  warn't  a 
funny  thing  fur  me  to  think  of  jest  then.  But 
it  war  no  use.  I  thrashed  around  till  I  got 
hold  of  my  knife,  an',  in  a  minit  arter  that,  the 
young  chief  had  give  his  last  yell.  Arter  bein' 

sartin  that  he  was  done  fur,  I  jumped  up  an' 

t 
run  t'wards  the  mustang,  which  had  stood  a 

little  way  off  watchin'  the  fight,  as  though  he 
war  wonderin'  who  would  come  out  at  the  top 
of  the  heap.  I  ketched  him  easy,  an'  arter 
takin'  the  young  Injun's  top-knot,  I  picked  up 
his  we'pons — here's  one  of  'em,  youngsters." 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  he  drew  his  hatchet 
from  his  belt  and  handed  it  to  Archie,  who  sat 
nearest  him.  The  boys  remembered  that  the 
first  time  they  met  old  Bob,  they  had  noticed 
that  his  hatchet  was  different  from  any  they 
had  ever  seen.  The  blade  was  long  and  nar- 
row, and  as  keen  as  a  razor.  The  back  part 
of  the  hatchet  was  hollow,  as  was  also  the 
handle,  and  thus  the  weapon  could  be  made  to 
answer  the  purpose  of  a  pipe.  The  handle  was 


252  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

also  ingeniously  carved,  but  was  so  worn  by 
long  and  constant  usage,  that  the  figures  upon 
it  could  not  be  distinguished.  The  travelers 
had  often  noticed  that  the  old  trapper  was  very 
particular  about  his  "  tomahawk,"  as  he  in- 
variably called  it ;  but  now  that  they  knew  its 
history,  they  did  not  wonder  that  he  considered 
it  worth  preserving.  When  the  boys  had  ex- 
amined the  weapon  to  their  satisfaction,  they 
returned  it  to  Old  Bob,  who  continued : 

"  Wai,  arter  I  had  tuk  the  young  chiefs 
scalp  an'  we'pons,  (I  had  his  knife,  too,  but  I 
lost  that  in  the  Missouri  River  by  bein'  upset 
in  a  canoe,)  I  jumped  on  my  new  hoss,  and 
rode  t'wards  the  camp,  leavin'  my  ole  mustang 
to  go  where  he  pleased.  When  I  reached  our 
fellers,  I  found  'em  all  busy  packin'  up.  They 
had  diskivered  signs  of  a  large  party  of  In- 
juns, an'  they  said  that  the  sooner  we  got  away 
from  thar  the  better  it  would  be  fur  us.  We 
traveled  all  that  night  an'  all  the  next  day,  an* 
got  safe  off.  I  had  the  laugh  on  my  side  then, 
fur  'em  fellers  all  said  I  couldn't  never  put  a 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  253 

bridle  on  the  chestnut  king;  an'  when  I  told 
'em  my  story  'bout  the  young  chief,  you  ought 
to  seed  them  open  their  eyes.  I  hadn't  been 
fooled  'bout  the  good  pints  of  that  ar'  boss,  fur 
he  war  a  critter  that  suited  me  exactly.  He 
carried  me  safe  through  many  a  fight  with 
grizzly  bars  an'  Injuns;  but,  finally,  I  lost  him 
but  a  few  miles  from  whar  I  fust  seed  him — on 
the  Saskatchewan.  I  never  trapped  on  that 
river  yet  without  losin'  somethin'.  I  have  lost 
two  chums  thar;  throwed  away  four  or  five 
winters'  work — or  jest  the  same  as  throwed  it 
away,  fur  all  my  furs  war  captur'd  by  the 
Injuns,  an'  thar  I  lost  this  hoss." 


254  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

OLD  BOB'S   ADVENTURE. 

THE  old  trapper  paused  for  a  moment  to  re- 
fill his  pipe,  and  then  continued — 

"  I  went  out  as  usual  with  a  party  of  trap- 
pers, fur  in  them  days  it  warn't  no  way  safe 
fur  a  feller  to  go  thar  alone.  We  war  a'most 
sartin  to  be  chased  by  the  Injuns,  but  them  as 
got  away  with  a  hul  skin,  allers  went  back  as 
soon  as  they  could  make  iip  a  comp'ny,  fur  it 
war  thar  the  best  trappin'  war  to  be  found. 

"If  all  the  red-skins  we  have  rubbed  out 
thar  could  come  to  life  ag'in,  I  reckon  thar 
would  be  lots  of  'em,  an'  if  all  our  poor  fellers 
who  have  had  thar  har  raised  on  the  plains  of 
that  same  river,  could  come  back,  you'd  see  a 
heap  of  fine  trappers.  An'  if  me  an'  Dick 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  255 

eould  have  all  the  furs  we  have  lost  thar,  I'll 
allow  it  would  keep  us  in  pipes  an'  tobacker 
fur  a  year  or  two.  In  them  days,  a  feller  could 
git  a  good  rifle  for  a  beaver  or  otter  skin,  an' 
a  fust  rate  boss  fur  two  or  three  mink  skins. 
Our  furs  war  the  only  thing  we  had  to  depend 
on  to  buy  us  a  new  outfit ;  so  when  we  lost  all 
our  winter's  work,  it  warn't  a  thing  to  laugh 
at. 

"  Wai,  as  I  war  sayin',  I  went  out  with  this 
party  of  fellers,  an',  as  usual,  not  the  least  bit 
of  Injun  sign  did  we  see  durin'  the  winter.  As 
a  gen'ral  thing  the  red-skins  don't  run  'round 
much  in  cold  weather — leastways,  they  don't 
go  fur  from  their  camps;  but  by  the  time  the 
snow  is  off  the  ground,  they  ar'  well-nigh  out 
of  grub,  an'  have  to  start  out  on  their  huntin' 
expeditions.  The  Saskatchewan  war  a  good 
place  fur  them  to  come  to,  fur  thar  war  plenty 
of  game;  but  the  country  warn't  big  enough 
for  them  an'  us ;  so  when  they  begun  comin'  in, 
it  war  high  time  fur  us  to  be  goin'  out.  Thar 
war  five  of  us  in  the  party,  an'  as  every  man 


256  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

knowed  his  own  bisness,  by  the  time  spring 
come  we  had  as  much  spelter  as  four  hosses 
could  pack  away.  When  the  snow  commenced 
goin'  off,  we  kept  a  good  lookout  fur  Injuns — 
fur  the  trappin'  war  so  fine  we  didn't  wrant  to 
leave  so  long  as  it  war  safe  to  stay — an',  one 
mornin',  as  I  war  com  in'  in  from  tendin'  to  my 
traps,  I  seed  whar  two  Injuns  had  crossed  the 
creek.  That  war  enough  fur  me,  so  I  put  for 
the  camp,  but  didn't  find  nobody  thar.  The 
fellers  war  all  out  tendin'  to  their  bisness;  an', 
in  course,  I  warn't  goin'  away  without  'em ;  so 
I  packed  up  my  spelter  ready  fur  the  start, 
and  while  waitin'  fur  'em,  kept  sharp  watch  on 
all  sides  fur  Injuns.  'Bout  noon  I  heered  a 
hoss  comin',  an',  in  a  few  minits,  up  rid  one 
of  our  fellers  with  his  huntin'  shirt  all  bloody. 
As  soon  as  I  seed  him,  I  knowed  that  the  game 
war  up. 

"  *  Bob ! '  says  he,  *  Get  away  from  here  to 
onct.  Bill  Coffee  is  done  fur  (that  war  his 
chum),  an'  you  can  see  how  nigh  they  come  to 
rubbin'  me  out  too.  Some  varlet  sent  an  arrer 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  257 

clean  through  my  arm.    Hand  me  my  pack  o' 
furs,  and  let's  be  off  to  onct,  {  tell  you.' 

"  This  man — Bill  Simons  his  name  war — 
war  the  oldest  an'  bravest  man  in  our  comp'ny, 
an'  he  war  our  leader.  Although  I  didn't  like 
the  idee  of  leavin'  them  fellers  out  thar  in  the 
woods  with  them  Injuns — fur  every  one  of  'em 
had  done  me  a  kindness — I  knowed  I  couldn't 
do  them  no  good  by  stayin';  fur,  when  Bill 
Simons  deserted  his  own  brother,  thar  warn't 
no  use  of  anybody's  tryin'  to  help  him.  So  I 
handed  Bill  his  furs,  grabbed  up  my  own, 
jumped  on  my  hoss,  an'  we  started.  It  war  no 
light  load  them  bosses  had  to  carry,  fur  our 
spelter  war  a'most  as  heavy  as  we  war.  But 
we  couldn't  think  of  leavin'  'em  behind  with- 
out makin'  one  effort  to  save  'em,  fur  we  had 
worked  hard  fur  'em,  an'  didn't  want  'em  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  them  lazy  Injuns.  As 
we  rid  along,  we  made  up  our  minds  that  we 
would  stick  together  as  long  as  we  could,  an' 
that  we  wouldn't  drop  our  furs  as  long  as  we 
seed  the  least  chance  of  escapin'  with  'em. 


258  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

But  if  we  had  knowed  anything,  we  would  have 
throwed  away  them  packs  to  onct,  fur  hangin' 
on  to  'em  so  long  was  jest  the  very  thing  that 
got  us  ketched.  We  run  our  bosses  with  them 
heavy  loads,  till  they  war  clean  done  out;  an' 
when  the  Injuns  got  arter  us,  they  war  a'most 
ready  to  drop.  Wai,  as  I  war  sayin',  we  rid 
along  fur  'bout  two  mile,  keepin'  a  good  look- 
out on  all  sides  fur  Injuns,  an',  finally,  we  seed 
'em  behind  us.  Thar  war  'bout  twenty  of  'em, 
an'  as  soon  as  I  sot  eyes  on  'em,  I  somehow 
knowed  that  we  war  ketched. 

"  l  Bob,'  said  Bill,  turnin'  to  me,  l  our  scalps 
ar'  wuth  more  nor  this  spelter.  It  is  time  to 
run  in  'arnest  now.' 

"  He  throwed  down  his  pack,  as  he  spoke, 
an'  then  his  hoss  went  faster.  But  I,  bein' 
young  an'  foolish,  didn't  like  the  idee  of  losin' 
my  winter's  work;  so  I  held  on  to  my  pack, 
till,  findin'  that  Bill  war  leavin'  me  behind,  I 
throwed  it  away.  Thar  war  our  eight  months' 
wages  gone.  We  had  worked  hard  an'  froze 
among  the  snows  of  the  mountains  fur  nothin'. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  259 

But  we  hadn't  gone  fur  afore  we  diskivered 
that  we  had  oughter  throwed  'em  away  long 
ago.  Both  our  hosses  run  as  though  they  had 
traveled  all  day,  an'  it  war  plain  as  bar's  ears 
that  they  couldn't  go  much  further.  Every 
time  we  looked  back  we  seed  that  the  Injuns 
war  gainin'  on  us  fast,  an'  the  way  they  yelled 
told  us  that  they,  too,  knowed  that  they  would 
soon  have  us.  I  looked  t'wards  Bill,  an'  al- 
though I  could  read  in  his  face  that  he  knowed 
we  war  ketched,  he  didn't  seem  the  least  bit 
skeary.  He  had  been  in  jest  such  scrapes 
afore.  He  had  often  been  a  pris'ner,  but  he 
war  strong  as  a  hoss,  could  run  like  a  skeered 
deer,  an'  had  allers  succeeded  in  gittin'  away 
from  the  Injuns  at  last.  I,  howsomever,  had 
never  been  in  the  hands  of  the  red-skins,  but 
I  knowed,  from  the  stories  I  had  often  heered, 
that  they  didn't  treat  a  feller  very  kind,  an' 
this  set  me  to  thinkin'.  The  Injuns  knowed 
Bill,  an'  wouldn't  they  know  me  too?  The 
young  chief  I  had  rubbed  out  b'longed  to  that 
same  tribe,  an'  wouldn't  his  friends  'member 


260  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

the  boss,  aii'  the  knife,  an'  tomahawk  I  carried 
in  my  belt?  I  could  throw  the  we'pons  away, 
an',  arter  think  in'  a  leetle,  I  did.  I  unbuckled 
my  belt,  an',  jest  as  we  went  over  a  swell  out 
of  sight  of  the  Injuns,  I  dropped  knife,  toma- 
hawk, an'  all,  hopin'  that  the  red-skins  would 
never  find  'em;  fur  I  knowed  that  if  they 
thought  I  had  ever  rubbed  out  any  of  the  tribe, 
I  would  ketch  the  wust  kind  of  punishment. 

"  Wai,  all  this  while  the  Injuns  had  been 
gainin'  on  us,  fur,  the  further  we  went,  the 
slower  our  bosses  run,  an'  all  the  whippin'  an' 
poundin'  we  could  do,  didn't  make  them  go  no 
faster.  They  war  well-nigh  tuckered  out. 
Purty  quick,  I  see  Bill  turn  in  his  saddle  an' 
draw  up  his  ole  shootin'  iron.  He  war  bound 
to  die  game.  I  watched  the  shot,  an'  couldn't 
help  givin'  a  yell  when  I  seed  one  of  the  var- 
lets  drop  from  his  boss.  The  Injuns  had  all 
this  while  been  ridin'  clost  together;  but 
findin'  that  we  war  goin'  to  begin  shootin', 
they  scattered,  an'  throwed  themselves  flat  on 
their  bosses'  backs,  so  that  we  couldn't  hit  'em. 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  261 

But  we  war  sartin  of  our  game,  no  matter  how 
small  a  mark  we  had  to  shoot  at,  an'  when  I 
fired,  I  seed  an  Injun  an'  his  boss  come  to  the 
ground  together.  By  this  time,  Bill  war  ready 
ag'in,  an'  down  come  another  Injun. 

"  If  our  hosses  had  only  been  fresh,  we  could 
have  picked  off  the  last  one  of  'em  afore  they 
could  have  ketch ed  us.  But  the  varlets  kept 
gamin'  all  the  time,  an'  purty  quick  they  got 
nigh  enough  to  use  their  we'pons,  an'  the  way 
the  arrers  whistled  'bout  our  heads  warn't 
pleasant,  now  I  tell  you.  But  we  kept  shootin' 
at  'em  as  fast  as  we  could  load  up,  bringin' 
down  an  Injun  at  every  pop — till  some  chap 
sent  his  arrer  into  my  boss's  side — an'  the 
next  minit  I  war  sprawlin'  on  the  ground. 
Bill  kept  on,  but  he  hadn't  gone  fur  afore  he 
got  an  arrer  through  his  neck,  which  brought 
him  from  his  saddle,  dead.  I  jest  seed  this  as 
I  war  tryin'  to  get  up;  for  my  boss  had  fell  on 
my  leg,  an'  war  holdin'  me  down.  Jest  arter 
Bill  fell,  the  Injuns  come  up  an'  I  war  a  pris- 
'ner.  I  couldn't  tell  you  how  I  felt,  young- 


262        '     Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

sters.  I  had  heered  enough  to  know  that  much 
depended  on  my  showin'  a  bold  front;  but  it 
takes  a  man  of  mighty  strong  nerve  to  look  a 
dozen  yellin',  scowlin'  Injuns  in  the  face,  with- 
out onct  flinchin'.  Howsomever,  I  kept  a 
leetle  courage  'bout  me,  I  guess,  fur  when  one 
chap  jumped,  an'  drawed  his  bow  with  an 
arrer  p'inted  straight  at  my  breast,  I  looked 
him  in  the  eye  without  winkin';  an'  when  an- 
other ketched  me  by  the  har,  an'  lifted  his 
tomahawk,  as  if  he  had  a  good  notion  to  make 
an  end  of  me  to  onct,  I  stood  as  still  an'  quiet 
as  though  I  didn't  see  him.  Arter  this  had 
been  goin'  on  fur  a  while,  the  Injuns  seemed 
to  grow  tired  of  it,  fur  my  hands  war  bound 
behind  my  back,  an'  one  feller  fetched  up 
Bill's  hoss,  an'  war  goin'  to  put  me  on  him, 
when  the  critter,  bein'  clean  tired  out,  give  a 
grunt  an'  lay  right  down  on  the  prairy.  The 
Injuns  seemed  to  think  the  hoss  war  no  'count, 
fur  they  turned  him  loose,  an'  I  war  lifted  on  to 
a  mustang  behind  one  of  the  savages.  I  didn't 
think  much  of  this  at  the  time,  but  I  arter- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  263 

ward  had  reason  to  be  glad  that  the  varlets  had 
left  Bill's  hoss  out  thar  on  "the  prairy. 

"  It  war  'bout  five  mile  to  the  place  whar 
the  Injuns  had  made  their  camp,  an'  while  on 
the  way  thar  I  warn't  bothered  at  all,  fur  they 
seed  that  I  warn't  skeered  easy.  When  we 
reached  the  village — which  must  have  had  nigh 
two  hundred  Injuns  in  it — I  found  that  I 
warn't  the  only  pris'ner,  fur  thar  war  Pete 
Simons,  Bill's  brother,  tied  to  a  post  in  the 
middle  of  the  camp,  an'  he  war  surrounded  by 
men,  women,  and  young  uns,  who  war  beatin' 
him  with  sticks,  an'  tormentin'  him  every  way 
they  knowed  how ;  but  findin'  that  they  couldn't 
make  Pete  show  fear — fur  that  war  something 
he  didn't  have  in  him — they  left  him,  when  I 
came  up,  and  pitched  into  me.  I  didn't  mind 
'em  much,  howsomever,  although  I  did  wince 
jest  the  least  bit  when  one  feller  struck  at  me 
with  his  tomahawk,  and  jest  grazed  my  face; 
but  they  didn't  see  it;  an'  purty  quick  one  big 
feller  ketched  me  by  the  har,  an',  arter  drag- 
gin'  me  up  to  the  post,  tied  me  with  my  back 


264  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

to  Pete's.  It  then  wanted  'bout  three  hours 
of  sundown,  an'  the  Injuns,  arter  holdin'  a 
leetle  council,  made  up  their  minds  to  have 
some  fun;  so  they  untied  me  an'  Pete,  an'  led 
us  out  on  the  prairy  'bout  three  or  four  hun- 
dred yards,  an'  thar  left  us.  We  looked  back 
an'  seed  the  Injuns  all  drawed  up  in  a  line, 
with  their  we'pons  in  their  hands,  an'  knowed 
that  the  varlets  had  give  us  a  chance  to  run 
for  our  lives.  In  course  they  didn't  mean  fur 
us  to  git  away,  but  they  wanted  the  fun  of 
seein'  us  run,  never  dreamin'  but  some  of  their 
fleet  braves  would  ketch  us  afore  we  had  gone 
fur.  I  never  looked  fur  'em  to  give  us  sich  a 
chance  fur  life  as  that,  an'  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  I  would  learn  'em  to  th\nk  twice  afore 
they  give  a  white  trapper  the  free  use  of  his 
legs  ag'in.  I  a'most  knowed  I  war  safe,  but  I 
felt  shaky  'bout  Peter  fur  the  Injuns  had  shot 
him  with  two  arrers  afore  they  ketched  him, 
an'  he  war  hurt  bad.  I  didn't  think  he  could 
run  far — nor  he  didn't,  neither;  fur  when  we 
shook  hands  an'  wished  each  other  good  luck, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  265 

\ 

he  said  to  me,  '  Bob,  I  wish  I  had  ray  rifle.' 
He  meant  bj  that,  if  he  had  his  ole  shootin' 
iron  in  his  hands,  he  wouldn't  die  alone;  he 
would  have  fit  the  Injuns  as  long  as  he  could 
stand.  Wai,  as  I  war  sayin',  we  shook  hands 
an'  bid  each  other  good-bye,  an'  jest  then  I 
1  jeered  a  yell.  I  jumped  like  a  flash  of 
lightnin',  an'  made  t'wards  a  little  belt  of 
tim'er  which  I  could  see,  'bout  two  miles 
acrost  the  prairy.  I  war  runnin'  fur  my  life, 
an'  I  reckon  I  made, the  best  time  I  knowed 
how.  I  soon  left  poor  Pete  behind,  an',  when 
I  had  gone  about  a  mile,  I  heered  a  yell,  that 
told  me  as  plain  as  words,  that  he  had  been 
ketched.  I  never  stopped  to  look  back,  but 
kept  straight  ahead,  an'  in  a  few  ininits  more 
I  war  in  the  woods.  The  yellin'  of  the  Injuns 
had  been  growin'  louder  an'  louder,  so  I 
knowed  that  they  were  gainin'  on  me,  an'  that 
if  I  kept  on  they  would  soon  ketch  me;  so,  as 
soon  as  I  found  myself  fair  in  the  tim'er,  I 
turned  square  off  to  the  right,  an'  takin'  to 
every  log  I  could  find,  so  as  to  leave  as  leetle 


266  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

trail  as  possible  fur  them  to  foller,  I  ran  'bout 
a  hundred  yards  further,  an'  then  dived  into 
a  thick  clump  of  bushes,  whar  I  hid  myself  in 
the  leaves  an'  brush.  I  had  kinder  bothered 
the  varlets,  for  a  leetle  while  arter,  they  came 
into  the  woods,  an'  went  on  through,  as  if  they 
thought  I  had  kept  on  t'wards  the  prairy.  But 
I  knowed  that  they  wouldn't  be  fooled  long; 
an'  when  I  heered  by  their  yellin'  that  they 
had  left  the  woods,  I  crawled  out  of  the  bushes 
to  look  up  a  better  hidin'-place.  Arter  list- 
enin'  an'  lookin',  to  be  sartin  that  thar  war  no 
Injuns  'round,  I  ag'in  broke  into  a  run,  an' 
finally  found  a  holler  log  at  the  bottom  of  a 
gully,  whar  I  thought  I  had  better  stop;  so  I 
crawled  into  the  log,  an'  jest  then  I  heered  the 
Injuns  coming  back.  They  knowed  that  I  war 
hid  somewhar  in  the  tim'er,  an'  they  all  scat- 
tered through  the  woods,  hopin'  to  find  me 
afore  it  'come  dark — yellin'  all  the  while,  as 
though  they  didn't  feel  very  good-natured 
'bout  bein'  fooled  that  ar'  way.  I  knowed  that 
they  couldn't  foller  my  trail  easy,  but  thar  war 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  267 

so  many  of  'em,  that  I  war  afraid  somebody 
might  happen  to  stumble  on  my  hidin'-place. 
But  they  didn't;  an'  arter  awhile  it  'come 
dark,  an'  the  varlets  had  to  give  up  the  search. 
I  waited  till  everything  war  still,  an'  then 
crawled  out  of  my  log,  and  struck  fur  the 
prairy.  I  warn't  green  enough  to  b'lieve  that 
they  war  all  gone,  fur  I  knowed  that  thar  war 
Injuns  layin'  'round  in  them  woods  watchin' 
an'  waitin'  fur  me.  In  course  I  didn't  want  to 
come  acrost  none  of  'em,  fur  I  had  no  we'pon, 
and  I  would  have  been  ketched  sartin ;  so  I 
war  mighty  keerful;  an'  I  b'lieve  I  war  two 
hours  goin'  through  the  hundred  yards  of 
woods  that  lay  atween  me  an'  the  prairy. 
When  I  reached  the  edge  of  the  tim'er,  I  broke 
into  a  run.  If  thar  war  any  Injuns  'round, 
they  couldn't  see  me,  fur  the  night  war  dark ; 
an'  they  couldn't  hear  me,  neither,  fur  my  moc- 
casins didn't  make  no  noise  in  the  grass.  I 
kept  on,  at  a  steady  gait,  fur  'bout  two  hours, 
an'  finally  reached  the  place  whar  I  war  cap- 
tur'd.  Arter  a  leetle  lookin'  and  feelin',  I 


268  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

found  my  belt  and  we'pons.  I  felt  a  heap  bet- 
ter then,  fur  I  had  something  to  defend  my- 
self with;  but  still  I  didn't  feel  like  laughin', 
fur  I  war  afoot,  an',  havin'  no  rifle,  I  couldn't 
think  how  I  war  to  git  grub  to  eat.  But  I  war 
better  off  nor  while  I  war  a  pris'ner  'mong  the 
Injuns;  so  I  knowed  I  hadn't  oughter  com- 
plain. Arter  takiii'  one  look  at  poor  Bill, 
whom  the  Injuns,  arter  havin'  scalped,  had 
left  whar  he  had  fallen,  an'  promisin'  that 
every  time  I  seed  a  Blackfoot  Injun  I  would 
think  of  him,  I  ag'in  sot  out.  Arter  I  had  gone 
-'bout  half  a  mile  further,  the  moon  riz,  an',  as 
I  war  running  along,  I  seed  something  ahead 
of  me.  I  stopped  to  onct,  fur  I  didn't  know 
but  it  might  be  a  Injun;  but  another  look 
showed  me  it  war  a  boss.  He  war  feedin'  when 
he  fust  seed  me,  but,  when  he  heered  me 
comin',  he  looked  up,  an'  give  a  leetle  whinny 
that  made  me  feel  like  hollerin'.  It  war  Bill 
Simon's  hoss.  How  glad  I  war  to  see  him! 
An'  he  must  a  been  glad  to  see  me,  too,  fur  he 
let  me  ketch  him ;  an'  when  I  got  on  his  back, 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  269 

I  didn't  keer,  jest  then,  fur  all  the  Injuns  on 
the  plains.  The  critter  had  had  a  good  rest, 
an',  when  I  spoke  to  him,  he  started  off  just 
as  lively  as  though  he  war  good  fur  a  hundred 
mile.  Wai,  I  rid  all  that  night,  an'  'arly  the 
next  mornin',  I  found  myself  nigh  a  patch  of 
woods  whar  we  allers  made  our  camp  when 
goin'  to  an'  from  the  Saskatchewan,  an'  I 
thought  I  would  stop  thar  and  git  a  leetle  rest, 
fur  I  war  tired  an'  hungry.  So  I  rid  through 
the  woods,  an',  when  I  come  in  sight  o'  our  ole 
campin'  ground,  I  seed  something  that  made 
me  feel  like  hollerin'  ag'in;  an'  I  did  holler; 
fur  thar  war  two  of  our  comp'ny — the  only 
ones  that  'scaped  'sides  me — jest  gettin'  ready 
to  start  off.  They  stopped  when  they  seed  me 
— an',  youngsters,  you  may  be  sartin  that  we 
war  glad  to  meet  each  other  ag'in.  One  of  'em 
war  Bill  Coffee,  who  I  thought  war  dead.  He 
war  bad  hurt,  but  he  got  off  without  losin'  his 
liar,  an'  he  felt  mighty  jolly  over  it.  Arter 
they  had  told  me  'bout  their  fight  with  the  In- 
juns— an'  they  jest  did  get  away,  an'  that  war 


270  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

all— I  told  'em  'bout  Bill  Simons  bein'  killed, 
and  how  me  an'  Pete  had  run  a  race  with  the 
varlets,  an'  we  all  swore  that  the  Blackfeet 
wouldn't  make  nothin'  by  rubbin'  out  them 
two  fellers.  I  stayed  thar  long  enough  to  rest 
a  little  an'  eat  a  piece  of  meat  that  one  of  'em 
give  me,  an'  then  We  all  sot  out  fur  the  fort, 
which  we  reached  all  right.  We  laid  'round 
fur  'bout  a  month,  an'  then — would  you  b'lieve 
it? — we  three  fellers  made  up  another  com- 
p'ny,  an'  put  fur  the  Saskatchewan  ag'in. 
None  of  us  ever  forgot  our  promise,  an'  every 
time  we  drawed  a  bead  on  a  Blackfoot,  we 
thought  of  Bill  an'  Pete  Simons." 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  271 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HOMEWARD    BOUND. 

THE  travelers  remained  at  the  "ole  bar's 
bole  "  three  weeks,  instead  of  one,  as  they  had 
at  first  intended.  Game  of  every  description 
was  plenty;  there  were  no  Indians  to  trouble 
them ;  in  short,  they  were  leading  a  life  that 
exactly  suited  the  boys,  who  were  in  no  hurry 
to  resume  their  journey,  which  was  becoming 
tiresome  to  them.  Besides,  their  supply  of 
bacon  was  exhausted,  and  the  trappers  under- 
took to  replenish  the  commissary.  This  they 
did  by  "  jerking "  the  meat  of  the  buffaloes 
that  had  been  killed  during  the  hunt  in  which 
Frank  had  taken  his  involuntary  ride.  They 
cut  the  meat  into  thin  strips,  and  hung  it  upon 
frames  to  dry — the  sun  and  the  pure  at- 


272  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

mospbere  of  the  prairie  did  the  rest.  The  meat 
was  thoroughly  cured  without  smoke  or  salt, 
and  although  the  boys  did  not  relish  it  as  well 
as  the  bacon,  they  still  found  it  very  palata- 
ble. To  Dick,  it  was  like  meeting  with  an 
old  friend.  He  had  always  been  accustomed 
to  jerk  buffalo  meat,  and  he  ate  great 
quantities  of  it,  to  the  exclusion  of  corn-bread 
and  coffee,  of  which  he  had  become  very  fond. 

In  addition  to  this,  the  gray  mustang  de- 
manded a  large  share  of  their  attention.  He 
was  very  unruly,  extremely  vicious,  and  at- 
tempted to  use  his  teeth  or  heels  upon  every- 
thing that  approached  him.  But  these  actions 
did  not  in  the  least  intimidate  Dick,  who  was 
a  most  excellent  horseman;  and,  after  several 
rides  over  the  prairie,  coupled  with  the  most 
severe  treatment,  he  succeeded  in  subduing  the 
gray,  which  was  turned  over  to  his  young  mas- 
ter, with  the  assurance  that  he  was  "  a  hoss  as 
no  sich  ole  buffaler  hunter  as  Sleepy  Sam 
could  run  away  from.'' 

This  declaration  was  instantly  resisted  by 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  273 

Archie,  who  forthwith  challenged  Frank  to  a 
race;  but  it  was  not  until  the  latter  had  fully 
satisfied  himself  that  the  mustang  was  com- 
pletely conquered  that  he  accepted  the  proposi- 
tion. When  he  had  been  robbed  of  his  horse, 
Frank  had  lost  something  that  could  not 
again  be  supplied,  and  that  was  his  saddle. 
As  for  a  bridle,  he  soon  found  that  the  trap- 
per's lasso  twisted  about  the  gray's  lower  jaw, 
answered  admirably;  but  it  was  a  long  time 
before  he  could  bring  himself  to  believe  that 
his  blanket  could  be  made  to  do  duty  both  as 
saddle  and  bed.  After  a  week's  practice,  how- 
ever, he  began  to  feel  more  at  home  on  his  new 
horse;  and,  one  morning,  as  he  rode  out  with 
his  cousin,  he  informed  him  that  he  was  pre- 
pared for  the  race.  Archie,  always  ready,  at 
once  put  Sleepy  Sam  at  the  top  of  his  speed; 
but  the  gray  king  had  lost  none  of  his  light- 
ness of  foot  during  his  captivity,  and  before 
they  had  gone  fifty  yards  he  had  carried  Frank 
far  ahead.  Race  after  race  came  off  that  day, 
and  each  time  Sleepy  Sam  was  sadly  beaten. 


274  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Archie  was  compelled  to  acknowledge  the 
gray's  superiority,  and  declared  that  lie 
wouldn't  niind  camping  with  Black  Bill  him- 
self if  he  could  be  certain  of  no  worse  treat- 
ment than  Frank  had  received,  and  could  gain 
as  good  a  horse  as  the  gray  king  by  the  opera- 
tion. 

The  mustang  having  been  thoroughly  broken 
to  saddle,  and  the  travelers  supplied  with 
meat,  there  was  nothing  now  to  detain  them  at 
the  cave.  So,  one  morning  Dick  harnessed  his 
mules,  and  they  prepared  to  resume  their 
journey.  Before  starting,  however,  the  boys 
explored  the  "  ole  bar's  hole  "  for  the  twentieth 
time,  and  as  long  as  they  remained  in  sight, 
they  turned  to  take  a  long,  lingering  look  at 
the  place  which  was  now  associated  with  many 
exciting  adventures. 

Instead  of  traveling  back  to  the  road  the 
train  had  taken,  the  trapper  led  them  south- 
ward, and,  after  a  long  and  tedious  journey 
through  the  mountains,  they  reached  Bridger's 
Pass,  and  a  few  days  afterward  they  arrived 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  275 

at  a  fort  of  the  same  name.  They  camped 
there  one  night,  and  then  turned  their  faces 
toward  Salt  Lake  City,  which  they  reached  in 
safety.  Mr.  Winters  led  the  way  to  a  hotel, 
where  an  excellent  dinner  was  served  up  for 
them.  After  passing  more  than  two  months 
in  the  saddle,  subsisting  upon  the  plainest 
food,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  boys  were  glad 
to  find  themselves  seated  at  a  table  once  more. 
Fresh  meat  and  vegetables  of  all  kinds  disap- 
peared before  their  attacks,  and  they  finally 
stopped  because  they  were  ashamed  to  eat 
more.  After  dinner,  being  informed  by  their 
uncle  that  they  would  remain  in  the  city  until 
the  following  day,  in  order  to  give  the  trappers 
time  to  lay  in  a  fresh  supply  of  provisions,  the 
boys  started  out  to  see  the  sights.  Evidences 
of  prosperity  met  their  eyes  on  every  side. 
Some  of  the  buildings  were  elegant,  the  streets 
broad  and  clean,  and  filled  with  vehicles. 
Wagon  trains  were  constantly  coming  and  go- 
ing, and  the  principal  business  seemed  to  be  to 
supply  these  with  provisions.  Archie  thought 


276  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

it  must  be  a  splendid  place  to  live  in,  so  near 
good  hunting  grounds;  but  he  could  not  help 
glancing  pityingly  toward  a  youth  about  his 
own  age,  whom  they  met  on  the  street,  and 
wondering  "  how  many  mothers  that  poor  fel- 
low had  to  boss  him  around." 

When  it  began  to  grow  dark  they  returned 
to  their  hotel,  where  they  retired  early.  They 
thought  they  could  enjoy  a  good  night's  rest 
in  a  comfortable  bed,  but  their  expectations 
were  not  realized.  They  could  not  go  to  sleep. 
First,  they  thought  the  quilts  were  too  heavy, 
and  they  kicked  them  off  on  the  floor.  Then 
the  mattress  was  too  soft — they  could  scarcely 
breathe — and  after  rolling  and  tossing  for  half 
the  night,  they  spread  the  quilts  on  the  floor, 
and  there  slept  soundly  until  morning. 

Their  journey  through  Utah  and  Nevada 
into  California,  was  accomplished  without  in- 
cident worthy  of  note.  The  boys  hunted  a  lit- 
tle now  and  then,  in  company  with  the  trap- 
pers ;  raced  their  horses  every  day,  and  Archie 
found  opportunities  to  make  a  collection  of 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  277 

relics,  that  fully  reconciled  him  to  the  loss  of 
those  of  which  Frank  had  been  robbed  the 
night  he  camped  with  the  outlaw.  There  was 
no  lack  of  fun  and  excitement,  but  they  had 
been  so  long  in  the  saddle  that  they  began  to 
grow  weary  of  their  journey,  and  heartily 
wished  themselves  at  the  end  of  it. 

In  due  time  they  arrived  at  Sacramento, 
where  was  located  a  large  business  house  in 
which  Mr.  Winters  was  interested.  They  se- 
cured rooms  at  a  hotel  and  the  next  morning 
found  the  boys  fresh  and  eager  for  the  sights 
of  the  city.  They  met  uncle  James  and  the 
trappers  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  the  former 
proceeded  to  unfold  his  programme. 

"  We  shall  probably  remain  in  Sacramento 
two  or  three  weeks,"  said  he,  "  or,  at  least  un- 
til I  can  settle  up  a  few  important  business 
matters,  and  then  we'll  set  out  again.  Our  life 
in  the  saddle  is  over  for  the  present.  When 
we  resume  our  journey  we  shall  travel  by  stage 
and  steamer." 

"  Wai — no,     I     reckon     not,"     said     Dick, 


2/8  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

quickly,  "  leastways  not  me  an'  my  chum,  here. 
I'd  a  heap  sooner  foot  it." 

"  Why,  there's  no  danger,"  said  Archie. 

"  Now,  you  needn't  talk,  little  'un,"  replied 
the  trapper,  "  'cause  it  won't  do  no  arthly 
good,  whatsomever.  We  jest  ain't  a  goin'  to 
do  it" 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Mr.  Winters,  "  suppose 
you  and  Bob  take  the  boys'  horses  and  make 
the  journey  by  land.  Our  home  for  the  next 
six  or  eight  months,"  he  added,  turning  to  his 
nephews,  "  will  be  in  the  southern  part  of  Cali- 
fornia, sixty  miles  from  San  Diego.  Dick  and 
Bob  have  expressed  a  desire  to  remain  with  us 
until  we  return  to  the  States,  and  so  I  have 
hired  them." 

"  What  for?  "  asked  Frank.  "  To  hunt  and 
trap  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  to  take  care  of  cattle." 

"  An'  to  keep  an  eye  on  you  youngsters," 
chimed  in  old  Bob.  "  You'll  be  fightin' 
grizzly  bars,  an'  gettin'  stampeded  with  buf- 
faler  if  you  ain't  watched  mighty  close." 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  279 

"  But  suppose  Dick  can't  find  his  way  to 
San  Diego?  "  said  Archie. 

"  You  needn't  be  oneasy,"  laughed  the  trap- 
per. "  Mebbe  you'd  think  it  queer  if  I  should 
tell  you  that  me  an'  ole  Bill  Lawson  have 
hunted  over  near  every  mile  of  this  country. 
If  you  live  to  get  to  San  Diego — which  I  don't 
much  look  fur,  seein'  that  you  are  goin'  to 
travel  on  one  of  them  steamboats — you'll  find 
me  an'  Bob  waitin'  fur  you." 

This  plan  having  been  decided  upon,  the 
trappers  prepared  to  start  immediately.  They 
did  not  feel  at  home  in  the  city,  and  seemed 
impatient  to  get  out  of  it.  Dick  took  leave  of 
the  boys  as  though  he  never  expected  to  see 
them  again,  and  then  mounted  Frank's  horse 
and  galloped  down  the  street,  leading  sleepy 
Sam  by  the  bridle. 

Frank  and  Archie  remained  in  Sacramento 
nearly  three  weeks.  They  enjoyed  themselves 
in  various  ways,  but  were  not  sorry  when 
uncle  James  told  them  that  he  was  ready  to 
resume  the  journey.  They  went  by  stage  to 


280  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

Benecia,  and  thence  by  boat  to  San  Francisco. 
There  they  remained  a  few  days,  to  explore 
the  city,  and  then  took  passage  on  board  a 
mail  steamer  for  San  Diego.  They  reached 
their  destination  after  a  pleasant  voyage,  and 
almost  the  first  man  they  saw  when  they 
stepped  upon  the  wharf,  was  Dick  Lewis,  who 
seemed  immensely  relieved  to  find  that  they 
had  accomplished  their  journey  in  safety. 

The  party  spent  the  night  at  the  hotel,  and 
the  next  morning,  bright  and  early,  set  out  on 
horseback  for  Mr.  Winters'  ranch,  where 
they  arrived  about  supper  time.  Here  the  boys 
again  found  themselves  surrounded  by  new 
scenes.  In  less  than  half  an  hour  they  had 
made  a  thorough  examination  of  their  new 
quarters,  and  come  to  the  conclusion  that  dur- 
ing the  next  six  months  they  were  doomed  to 
lead  a  very  dull  life. 

"  We  shall  see  no  fun  here,"  said  Archie,  as 
he  and  his  cousin  went  into  the  room  that  had 
been  assigned  to  them,  to  get  ready  for  sup- 
per. "  Dick  and  Bob  will  be  kept  busy  at- 


Frank  on  the  Prairie.  281 

tending  to  the  stock;  there  are  no  boys  in  the 
country;  the  nearest  house  is  four  miles  dis- 
tant; it  is  so  hot  one  can  scarcely  stir  out  of 
doors,  and  we  can  do  nothing  but  sit  and  mope 
in  the  house." 

These  were  Archie's  first  impressions.  Be- 
fore he  had  been  long  on  the  ranch,  he  dis- 
covered that  life  in  California  was  not  so  dull 
and  uneventful  as  he  had  imagined  it  to  be. 
He  had  adventures,  and  more  than  he  wanted ; 
and  what  they  were  shall  be  told  in  FRANK 

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